A Broom and a Violin
by whispers in the morning
Summary: Slices of Lily Luna's life, from early childhood to young adulthood.
1. Early Childhood

**A/N: J.K. Rowling owns these characters; few things in this story are original (most of them are inspired by other fan fictions, other books, and real life).**

Lily Luna Potter was the cheeriest toddler Molly Weasley had ever had the pleasure to read _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ to. She smiled constantly, as though the mere fact of being alive was giggle-worthy. In moments of surprise, her eyes and mouth would take the shape of the sweetest 'O' – but seconds later, a melodious cackle would escape her mouth, as if to express the delight of feeling something new. If Lily could string words together properly, Molly was certain she would say something like, "Oh, really Grandmother, that was _too_ lovely!"

Lily grew up, as many little girls with two older brothers do, to prefer the elder of the two. Albus, she thought, was absolutely atrocious! Not a day would go by when he didn't knock her off her broom, nick her favourite food from her plate, hide her Chocolate Frog cards, or put gnome bogies in her hair. James, on the other hand, was proud to have a little sister. He especially took pride in teaching her everything he thought mattered: he taught her how to fly, what Quidditch players to root for, how to play pranks without getting caught, how to climb to the very top of every tree, the words to the songs of The Growling Goblins (his favourite wizard band), how to de-gnome the garden, and how to get daddy to say yes to (almost) anything.

James's relationship with Albus was another matter entirely.

The Potters lived in the countryside. Upon their arrival on the land, shortly before James was born, Ginny had lost no time in arranging a perfectly concealed Quidditch field. She had just quit the Holyhead Harpies and feared she could not survive another day without playing. When he had seen it, Harry had roared in laughter, delighted – it was the first of innumerable exclamations of happiness to take place on the field. All three Potter siblings had taken after their parents, and spent hours flying every day. James was a terrific beater, Albus was an exceptional chaser, and Lily – she was a magnificent seeker. She usually played chaser with her brother (the game ending, almost always, in a heated fight), because no game lasted more than ten minutes when she was seeking. Her father had choked on his pumpkin juice the first time she had caught a Snitch (in three minutes and twenty-eight seconds, no less). Everyone had soon realised it had not been luck, but natural skill. Her cousins joined them rather often. Louis, Rose and Hugo were a fair match – with Louis being James's age, Rose being Albus's, and Hugo Lily's – and Teddy, Dominique, Victoire, Roxanne and Fred joined them when they were not at Hogwarts. The others were too young (and rather clumsy, really).

Lily loved her cousins, she really did. She loved James, and even Albus sometimes. But there were days when she liked to be alone with _her own_ special best friend. Kate was a Muggle, but there was something magical about her. She lived on a farm neighbouring the Potters' cottage. Her mother was a large animal vet, and her father was a farmer and a cellist. He taught Kate, Lily, and a few other kids from the area how to play. In those special moments, Lily was all ears: it was not like having James teach her the words to her favourite song… _she_ was making the music. She was making _magic_.

* * *

><p>Lily's eighth birthday brought her – besides loads of fun and cake – the two objects she favoured most in the world. The first came from her parents. She could easily tell it was a broom just from the packaging, but she pretended not to know. She did, however, get a slight surprise upon unwrapping:<p>

"An Electrostar Two? No, wow… Yes! Yes! Thanks – mum, daddy – that's too much! Thank you thank you thank you!"

As she jumped in her mother's arms, her father smirked and joked:

"Well, we don't want you going soft now that Jamie's going to Hogwarts."

Lily's second surprise of the day came from her friend Kate. Lily's mouth was wide, and her voice breathy when she asked:

"Is this… Kate, is it… a vy-len?"

Kate giggled gleefully. "It's a violin. It's a bit different from the cello, but not really. Daddy said I could teach you. You'll like it, it's less… serious." She giggled again, then continued: "Then we can play together, duets!"

* * *

><p>In Lily's eyes, Kate was graceful, she was brilliant, she was funny, she was the most gifted cellist in the world. She was <em>her best friend forever<em>. They laughed together, and cried together sometimes, and played music together. They composed together, and played symphonies together for the cows. They memorised the pieces of famous Muggle composers together. They even learned mathematics and grammar together some days, since they were both homeschooled. When James and Albus left for Hogwarts, they spent even more time together, dreaming up treasure hunts that almost always ended in a barn concert.

It was one of those hot days, in the middle of August. They were sitting on the smelly barn floor, their sandals long lost, hay between their toes, their sweaty bangs sticking on their shining foreheads, the sounds of horses and cows all around. Lily's violin was tucked under her chin as she was playing notes at random, too hot to think twice. Kate's cello was lying face up on her thighs, and she plucked its strings absent-mindedly. As Lily played a particularly discordant chord, Kate mentioned pointedly:

"You know, I'm not going to be home-schooled this year. I'll be going to boarding school, in Wales, actually."

Lily's eyebrows quickly quirked up as she realised she had not yet told her best friend about Hogwarts; they then came together when she realised Kate would not stay here. _How could she?_ Lily took a cool tone, the type of tone eleven-year-old girls are just discovering, and replied:

"Yeah, well, I'll be in boarding school too. Though mine's in Scotland."

Kate did not miss a beat; Lily could tell she was going somewhere specific with this conversation. "Well, you know, you won't be in Wales, so naturally we can't be best friends anymore when school starts. I'll have a new best friend, a girl from my dormitory, I imagine."

Lily's face remained expressionless. Kate was not making sense. They could still be best friends! Of course they would have other friends, but… She started playing a lively, famous excerpt from Mozart's _Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_. "Of course, she answered indifferently. Makes sense."

Lily's heart had broken that day, for the very first time.

**A/N: If you wonder what I mean with _Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_, give this a listen: .com/watch?v=GT7_Y1pIBb4&feature=related (you will realise soon enough that you know the song).**


	2. The Sorting

II. The Sorting

Lily did not recall ever feeling this nervous in her life. There were not butterflies in her stomach, but an entire beehive. She felt ready to throw up, pass out or burst in tears at any moment. She smiled faintly as she waved her parents, aunts and uncles goodbye on Platform 9 ¾. James, Albus, Louis and Rose were all chatting animatedly beside her, while Hugo chuckled nervously at nothing. Lily could not think of much except that she should not have put so much sugar in her porridge this morning.

"Lily! I said what house do you want to be in?"

Lily jumped and looked around. Her cousins and siblings were all looking at her expectedly. Except for Rose: she looked exasperated. Rose it was. Lily looked at her when she answered:

"Oh. I don't… I don't know. What do you think, Hugo?"

Hugo gave the same nervous chuckle he had been making in London. Neither of them felt like talking much. Rose caught on and smiled:

"You know, it's all right if you're not in Gryffindor. There's Angie Bulstrode, in Ravenclaw, she's very nice. And Ben Smith, in Hufflepuff. And… hm…"

She had tried to make them feel better, but had obviously failed. After all, the others were _all_ in Gryffindor – there was a lot of pressure no matter what she said. She quickly changed the subject:

"Any of you guys trying out for the Quidditch team? Dominique is captain this year!"

Albus opened his mouth, but James was faster:

"Oh, Louis, you should _totally_ try out. You're an _awesome_ chaser. Then I'd have someone _fun_."

Victoire, Fred and Roxanne had all graduated. Louis blushed a bit before he excused himself sheepishly:

"Hm… not really my thing, Jamie… you know… but… but – Albus would be excellent!"

Again, James answered before Albus could think of what to say:

"Al? Don't be silly, Lou."

"_I_ think Al should try out," Rose but in, once again willing to help but making matters worse. Albus sunk in his seat and looked out the window.

* * *

><p>"Too soon," was the only thought that came to her mind when her name was called in the Great Hall. She felt a small push down her back, incapable of deducing whose hand it was. The next thing she felt was the uneven, round top of the wooden stool on her bum and she scratchy, smelly interior of the Sorting Hat on her forehead. She jumped as the Hat's low, growling voice resonated through her brain. It was as though Kate was <em>in<em> her head, playing discordant chords on her cello. She closed her eyes at the thought of her. _Not now_.

"Ah, an_other_ one of you guys? The Weasleys _do_ love to reproduce, do they not? Ha, ha! Well… oh! Interesting! Not like the others, are you? Mm…" Lily felt her pulse speed right up. "But I'll tell you dear, you are stronger than them, you know. And just as brave. I think it would be wrong not to put you in –"

She knew it spoke the next word aloud, because her ears buzzed and the Great Hall echoed.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She laughed in relief and ran to Rose's side, giving her a big hug before sitting down at what was, from now on, _her house's_ table. The rest of the night – Hugo sitting down beside her, Headmaster Sprout's speech, and the pudding – blurred past her.

* * *

><p>Lily had no idea how she had gotten where she was. <em>No. Idea<em>. She had been eating eggplant soup and then – now she was standing in the middle of the Quidditch field. She could hear familiar voices arguing around her, but the meanings did not reach her brain…

"Weasley, if I need to tell you one more time…"

"Please, Professor Johnson, sir. Just one try, Dominique's right, she –"

"Potter, do not get into this! First years are not allowed on the Quidditch team, and that is the end of it!"

Lily snapped back to reality. James and Dominique were trying to get her to seek for them. Well, Fred was seeker last year, and he was gone now. Professor Johnson, assistant Qudditch referee and Flying Instructor, Care of the Magical Creatures Professor, and Keeper of the Grounds, was trying to enforce the school rules. It was obvious, though, that he was losing his ground. Lily could tell he liked her.

It was a few days after the beginning of term. Lily had had an urge to unwind, to let go. Emotionally. She poured her heart into her violin in an empty classroom. Professor Johnson had walked in on her, startled. He had made a comment about how she was not "like the others" and turned around, visibly puzzled.

"My longest game as a seeker lasted nine minutes and forty-two seconds," Lily cut in clearly, but not cockily.

Professor Johnson studied her in barely concealed amazement. She could tell what he was thinking. The violin, now this? _Peculiar_.

"Go on, then. Impress me. And I should tell you," he added in a softer manner, with a slight wink, "I played with your uncle in Romania. Measure up."

She did not miss a beat as she put a leg around her brother's broom and kicked the ground. She knew, at this moment, that Professor Johnson was going to be one of her favourite teachers. Neville was her favourite, of course…

What was she thinking? The Snitch was right there! She jerked her broom down and dove in a vertical line, then swiftly encircled the Snitch with her fingers. She smiled.

She would need to owl her parents. Apparently, she needed her broom.

* * *

><p>A week later, a handsome owl knocked down her morning Earl Grey. She pulled a brown string and unrolled the message the animal carried.<p>

_Dear Lily,_

_I would like to see you for tea Sunday._

_Neville_

_PS: there will be chocolate biscuits._

Lily smiled. Neville hardly needed to mention chocolate biscuits for her to accept the invitation. He was awfully fond of music, and she loved him for it. They would always break into discussions on Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony, or nineteenth-century impressionist composers, or _Carmen_. He had conducted research on the effect of different genres of music on magical plant growth. It was fascinating. Really, biscuits were accessory.

Lily knocked on the door thrice. "Come in!" Neville's voice was a bit muffled, and seconds later, she knew why. The professor's office was an absolute mess – much, much messier than she could ever have imagined, Neville being such a well-groomed man. There were plants everywhere, all kinds, in various states of growth and experimentation. Hundreds of books were lined on the shelves or else in places and positions Lily was sure books should not be. Vinyl records filled an entire shelf, and Lily could barely make out the gramophone under all the – were they mandrakes? Gardening tools were in awkward positions, some of them hovering in mid-air, others making repetitive movements. She saw Neville's bright face emerge from behind his desk. "Hi there Lily! I was just about to…" He waved his wand and a curtain pulled, revealing a sitting area complete with rocking chairs, a fireplace and a coffee table. Lily giggled.

Lily sat in one of the rocking chairs and watched the teapot pouring tea in the two chipped cups on the table. She heard a faint 'tick' and the sound of Chopin's Nocturnes filling the air. Neville sat down moments later, a cheerful smile on his face.

"So, tell me all about your first two weeks. Just how bad was everything?"

Lily giggled again. "It was brilliant. Dominique and James got me on the team, isn't that nice? And Al got on too," she paused to think. "Oh and I love Transfiguration, it was the best. Professor Fry gave me twenty-five points for being the first to turn matches into needles. I liked Professor Johnson, too. He likes music, doesn't he?"

"Ah! He does. We were discussing Stravinsky just the other day. He's trying to see if the conclusion of my research can be applied to magical creatures, but was a bit hesitant on trying _The Rite of Spring_ on things with ears!" He and Lily both chuckled. "Did you know he used to work with Charlie?"

"He let that slip, yes. Ah, I miss uncle Charlie so much."

"You might see him soon! He visits regularly. Charlie, I mean. Here. He and Professor Johnson are rather close. Anyhow, it seems Satie's _Gymnopedies_ did wonders on dragons. Can you imagine?"

"No way! Well it _is _quite soft," Lily pointed out. "Calms them down, I suppose?"

"Yes. Hey, your friend, the cellist; how is she?"

"Oh, she's in boarding school now. In Wales, I think," Lily tried to sound casual about it. "I think she's trying to start over there or something. I haven't heard of her, really."

"Well, why don't you write to her? That sort of thing is so easy to forget."

That was… _highly unlikely_.


	3. The Swan

**A/N: Bad news in this chapter; I apologise in advance, but I very much needed to write about this. You might want to listen to this piece later on (the chapter is titled after it): youtube(dot)com/watch?v=8VxmaZFms_E**

On her second night home from the summer holidays, while James and Albus were de-gnoming the garden, Lily sat down with her parents at the kitchen table. She was still a bit high from her first Quidditch Cup win – somehow from the moment it happened she rarely found herself without a toothy grin. Her big smile did not keep her from noticing her parents' frowns.

"What's going on mum?"

"Lily, we talked to Kate's parents last week. They… came for tea."

"Oh," Lily replied with her practiced indifferent tone. "So is she back from boarding school? Um, Ireland, was it?"

She knew perfectly well where Kate was. Ginny sighed. Harry's hand covered his mouth.

"She's been back for a while now, honey. She's ill. Leukaemia," her mother told her without breaking eye contact.

Lily did not know what leukaemia was, but she guessed it was pretty bad. Still, there was hope. It might just be like dragon-pox.

"Okay. Is that bad?"

"Yes. Yes, it's quite bad," Ginny's eyes shone, whether from tears or the lighting Lily could not tell. "It's cancer, there's something wrong with her blood and Muggles can't always fix it on time."

"Oh. But Fleur could do it, right? She's a Healer. I'm sure it's the easiest thing –"

"It's not something magic can cure, Lily."

"Lily?" Her father looked at her gently. "I'm sure it would make Kate very happy if you went to visit. She's back in town for a few days before she returns to the hospital."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, I can do that. I'll go tomorrow I guess."

Beneath her cold nearly-twelve-year-old demeanour, Lily's heart was flailing. She wondered if her mother noticed how hard it was beating when she hugged her good night.

* * *

><p>Lily took a deep breath and knocked, three times, on Kate's front door. Her father opened. <em>He looks old<em>, she thought. Lily had no idea how she should behave, so she gave the man a big smile as she used to, before. He reciprocated with difficulty.

"Come, Lily, she's in her bedroom."

The first thing Lily noticed when she saw her friend was that she had no eyebrows and eyelashes. _Odd. A symptom?_ She hid her surprise and gave Kate a mischievous grin. There were other unusual things about her friend: she had no hair, her head was covered with a paisley bandana, and her face was pale and slightly swollen. Part of Lily thought she ought to be more considerate of her friend's health, but another part of her thought it was best to act as though all was normal. Lily was not yet twelve, and she did not know how to act 'considerate'. They did not teach her that at Hogwarts. This did not leave her much of a choice: she behaved as she always had with her.

"Hey! I learned Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D major. You know the one we wanted to do last summer? It's bloody hard!"

"Oh, I always knew you could do it," Kate's voice did not sound right; it was broken, weak, pasty... yet strangely happy. "You're a better musician than I will ever be."

Once again, Lily hid her surprise: her surprise at the sound of Kate's voice, at the unexpected compliment.

"Shut up! We both know that's not true," she glanced at her friend's cello, covered in an almost unnoticeably thin coat of dust. "I suppose you haven't had much time to play lately. That's too bad. I mean, there are still a few Bach concertos you haven't memorised!"

Kate's laugh sounded as though it was both extremely painful and extremely delicious. It puzzled Lily. She did not know what to make of it. She decided to make light conversation. They talked about cows and the Loch Ness, about sheep and haystacks. After Lily had made an excellent point regarding chicken and eggs, Kate said something that surprised her:

"Play for me. Please," she pleaded softly. "_The Swan._ Camille Saint-Saëns."

Lily gave her a shy smile, and lightly giggled her answer. "The cello? I haven't played in ages!" She walked reverently to her friend's instrument. Her hands gave its neck a gentle, wistful caress. She looked up to Kate's messy music stand: the score of _The Swan_ was on top. The cello was propped against a wooden chair on which lay the bow. Lily let the tip of her fingers brush against the hair… It was going to be difficult, yes – but wonderful. She sat on the chair, hugged the instrument with her knees and slowly brought the bow to the strings. She took a deep breath. This would not be easy.

The notes were shaky at first, not quite as long and noble as they should have been. Quickly, Lily's hands grew back into the positions they had once cherished. She felt herself becoming more graceful; her movements were more agile. Saint-Saëns's notes vibrated through her entire being: she was _The Swan_, she was innocence and melancholia, she was tainted purity, she was confusion and wisdom, she was everything she did and didn't know how to be. If made her feel glorious and beautiful, but also scared and hopeless. She looked into Kate's eyes – they were so different. Lily did not know if they only seemed different because they lacked eyelashes, or if they really were beady and sad. She did not want to think about it too much, because with that thought always came another one. _Death_. Was Kate going to die? Lily did not dare ask anyone for fear of what they might answer. She would do anything to keep from hearing a 'yes', including keeping herself in the dark. Kate smiled, though. She was happy, and whether the feeling was fleeting or not, Lily did not care. She smiled back at her once best friend, taking in her amazed expression. _Infinity._

Lily played the last note with just the right amount of vibrato, the way Kate had always loved. She looked up in her friend's eyes once more and met tears. Small tears, painful tears, delicious tears, but tears nonetheless. Lily was baffled. She smiled shyly. These last three minutes belonged only to the two of them, and they would cherish their memory forever.

Lily left 30 minutes later, leaving a piece of her heart, with no intention of ever retrieving it.


	4. Lipstick and Dormitories

**A/N: I'd like to thank the four of you who have taken special interest in this story. It means a lot. I'm still experimenting and clumsy, and to tell you the truth I haven't written long stories since middle school (I'm in Uni now). I'm learning as I go.**

**Also, merdarkandtwisty pointed out interesting things in her reviews (thank you for that!). Why isn't Neville head of Gryffindor? Well, that's a very good question. I had not even considered it, I think because I wanted Lily and Prof Johnson to share something special (I could have thought of a better way, though). ****Professor Johnson being older than Neville might be a good reason/excuse (he's an older relative of Angelina's). ****The identity of the Head of Gryffindor will not matter later on in the story. I wish I had thought of making Neville the Head. I love him so much (and so does Lily). I might go back and change things a bit. Whether I do it or not, you are free to consider it changed anyway. Also: w****hy is McGonagall not Headmistress? She died a few years back - sorry. I did not think it was realistic to have her live so long, whereas Sprout is slightly younger in my mind. (It might not make much sense, but again, not too important.) And finally, Kate does not sound very nice but children can be so mean sometimes, without even realising. She really did not mean any harm - she just did not know better.**

**I apologise for the inaccuracies, past and future! I am doing my best and having fun along the way. I hope all of you are too.**

The last thing Lily wanted was another girl friend. She had had one of those already, and it had broken her heart. If she didn't know better, she would tell all the girls in her dormitory to shove their lipsticks somewhere _uncomfortable_. Unfortunately, she did know better. She knew that friends were important. Her mother had told her so during the last Christmas holidays, after Lily had made a disobliging comment on one of the girls:

"You might not want to be best friends with the girls in you dormitory – I don't speak to any of them anymore, honestly – but you don't want to be lonely." Ginny had taken a pause at that point, before continuing, "I'm lucky I had Luna, but… I'm sure they're nice girls, Lily. Give them a chance, all right? I know you're not used to… _girly stuff_… but who know, you might like it in the end."

That speech was the reason Lily was currently sitting in a wagon with Jane, Donna and Fay, September 1st. They were twelve now, which meant they had to talk mostly about boys. _Boring_.

"Lily, you've got plenty of handsome relatives. Do you think James would be into me?"

Lily stared at Fay, half confused, half disgusted. She started with the obvious, glossing over the enormous personality discordances. "Um, Fay, honestly. He's a fifth year."

"I know," Fay sighed dreamily. "What do you think, Jane? Which Weasley's most to your taste?"

Really, Lily doubted she would survive the train ride. There were too many dreamy sighs and too many of her relatives in this conversation.

"Fay, don't pretend you don't know about this huge thing Jane has for Louis. Really, Jane, how unoriginal," Donna answered harshly, rolling her eyes. "Albus…"

"Al's about the biggest jerk in the school," Lily blurted out.

"Are we both talking about Albus Severus Potter? The scrawny-but-cute Arithmancy nerd in fourth year who plays chaser? The one who helped Scorpius Malfoy avoid expulsion last year? He doesn't look like a jerk to me, Lily. Gale says he rescued a baby unicorn in his first year," Donna defended actively.

"Gale's got about as much brains as a flobberworm," Lily argued.

"Ooh, fancying Gale, are we now, Potter?" Fay cut in mischievously.

"Am not!"

"Are too! Then who's the lucky guy?"

Lily bit her lip. Was she actually supposed to be fancying a boy already? She had just turned twelve!

"Ah, come on, Lily, you _must_ be fancying someone!"

"I'm sure it's Gale!"

At this point, Lily decided that no amount of her mother's pretty speeches could be enough to make her want to be friends with such a bunch of lipstick-wearing Cornish Pixies. She joined her cousins in their compartment and talked about Quidditch until Hogsmeade was in view.

* * *

><p>The first few months of Lily's second year flew right over her head. Dominique was in her last year at Hogwarts and wanted to make sure that, as a Quidditch Captain, she would go out with a bang. Moreover, Lily had mounds of homework, and played her violin whenever she could. What with enduring the babbling witches in her dormitory, she had more than enough on her plate. Thankfully, she had one thing to look forward to in November: Charlie's visit.<p>

As she made her way from the Great Hall to Gryffindor Tower, one night shortly after Halloween, she heard Professor Johnson call her name:

"Lily, may I have a word, please?"

Lily turned around and grinned at her teacher. He was tall, his skin dark, his features friendly, his robes used. He gave Lily a big smile.

"I suppose you've heard that your uncle will be visiting soon?"

"Oh yeah, mum wrote me just the other day! I hope I'll get a chance to see him."

"I know you're quite fond of him – he taught you how to seek, yeah? I mean with your dad of course. So I thought you might like to come to mine for tea, two Sundays from now? He'll be staying at my place – the cabin."

Lily's face lit up. "Really? Oh, Professor, thanks so much! You guys really are two of my favourite people, you know. I'll be there."

Her professor smiled fondly as he watched her walk to the common room, wondering how such a lively, gifted, cheerful child could be so lonely.

* * *

><p>On a cold November afternoon, Lily walked to the edge of the Forest. Before she could reach Professor Johnson's front door, it flew open and she was taken in a whirlwind of red hair, milky-honey scents and hugs. Charlie was wearing tattered Muggle clothing – beige jean trousers ripped in many places and a worn-out shirt, the sleeves of which he had rolled up (it was always too warm for him). His hair was curly and a bit long, but not nearly as long as her uncle Bill's.<p>

The two of them twirled and laughed. It had been too long since Lily had last seen her favourite uncle, and he his favourite niece. They entered the cabin after several moments. Professor Johnson smiled affectionately at their entrance, pouring tea.

"Ah, Ben, is that Earl Grey I smell?"

"Your favourite," Professor Johnson answered, his eyes twinkling.

"It's mine too," Lily added with a small, good-natured giggle.

"It is!" Charlie exclaimed. "Well aren't we a bunch of Earl Grey lovers!" He chuckled at the thought.

They sat down at the table, Ben and Charlie sitting side by side opposite Lily.

"So you guys are friends, huh? And you still visit each other, that's nice," Lily started making conversation. She didn't notice the quick exchange of looks between her uncle and her Professor before Charlie replied:

"Yeah. I'll say, Romania used to get pretty lonely. There were months when I had nobody to talk to but Ben. Got me out of… tight spots. There are people you can't lose contact with."

Lily sensed he was about to make a comment about Kate – he had heard about her often, from Ginny as well as from Lily herself. He seemed to censor himself, though, judging that it might be a touchy subject. _Due to her illness. Death._ Lily wondered if Kate was going to die.

"But tell me, Lily, how's everyone? I wish I could've visited this summer, but we got half a dozen new dragons from China. Things were pretty hectic."

Lily took a few sips of tea, gathering her thoughts. She decided to go from the younger ones to the eldest.

"Hm… Molly can't wait to get in Hogwarts, but she's still got three years to go. Hugo's fantastic. He's getting funnier every year, I swear. And he's got like a million friends. Everybody loves him."

Lily did not notice the edge of envy in her own voice, but her uncle did. It worried him a bit. Her niece didn't fit the 'loner' personality type, and yet…

"Al… oh Merlin's pants he drives me crazy! And everyone thinks he's this perfect angel, _oh Albus can do no wrong_. There's this nutty rumour going around school saying that he rescued a baby unicorn in his first year. He started Arithmancy last year, he loves it so much. I think he'll be a banker like uncle Bill. But more boring, because you know, it's still _Al_!"

Charlie laughed at his niece's outrage: some things never changed.

"Rose, oh she's so lovely. She's a bit less clumsy than she used to be. That's a wonderful thing, of course. She keeps getting angry with James for being such a troublemaker. Although, James is getting better. At not getting caught I mean."

She winked and they laughed.

"Louis is still the shyest boy in school. He's really set on becoming a Healer, I think. But it's a bit funny, how all the girls moon over him like he's some Prince Charming. I mean he's so shy," she giggled. "He turns red at the mere sight of a girl. And, oh, Dominique's going crazy! She makes us train extra-hard. She wants to join the Harpies, but she's still waiting for news from the recruiters. Don't tell Bill and Fleur though," she added quickly, "they wouldn't like it."

"I'm sure it would be fine. With grades as good as hers…" Charlie let his thought trail.

"I haven't heard much from Fred and Roxanne, although I do know that Roxanne is still working abroad, while Fred's finishing up his studies this year. Teddy and Victoire are still together, but there's still no sign of a wedding on the horizon. The adults, well, mum knows more about them than I do. Will you visit her?"

"I'm spending the weekend with her, then I'll go to Bill's, and mum and dad's… and I hope I can make it for Christmas, fingers crossed! And tell me, how's Quidditch?"

Lily's face lit up as she gave a detailed summary of her last game.


	5. Quaffle's Note

**A/N: I made a slight change to the past chapter: Lily did not have Care of the Magical Creatures class (she was only in year 2). Oops!**

**Again, bad news in this chapter but, just like last time, it's something I needed to write about. Reviews are welcome.**

A year had passed. Dominique had gotten her Quidditch Cup win, her deal with the Holyhead Harpies and, eventually, her parents' approval. Lily had not made new friends, or spoken to Kate at all. The highlight of the year had been the entire family's trip to France to attend the Finals of the Quidditch World Cup. Lily had been ecstatic the whole time, and so had been all her cousins. At the end of the match, before climbing down the stairs of the stadium, Lily had stopped, closed her eyes, and promised to herself that she would never, ever forget this moment. _Happiness_.

Care of the Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes were Lily's new classes, and she loved them. She wished to one day be as skilled as her Aunt Hermione with runes, and be able to read and write fluently. Her aunt's copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ written entirely in runes had always impressed Lily. She also loved animals, and learning more about them filled her with affection. Professor Johnson was a great teacher.

One Monday morning, at the end of November, Lily's porridge was stepped on by the family's owl. (Its name was Quaffle, because its coppery feathers made the owl looke like a quaffle.) It was carrying an envelope. _A big letter, then_. Lily opened it, ignoring the multiple conversations her cousins were having around her. None of them seemed to be paying attention to what she was doing; Quaffle's entrance had gotten no one's attention but Lily's.

_Dear Lily,_

_Kate's parents came for tea yesterday. Kate passed away last week, in her sleep, at the Muggle hospital in London._

_If you need anything, just let us know. I don't have a lot of work this week, so I could come up to Hogsmeade if you'd like. I'm sure Neville could get you a permission slip._

_Lots of love,_

_Mum_

Keeping her composure, Lily absent-mindedly patted Quaffle's back with her left hand while answering her mother's letter with her right.

_Mum –_

_I'm fine, really. We've got a Quidditch match soon, I don't have much time. I'm sure grandma would love a visit, though. She was disappointed we didn't stay longer last summer._

_I love you._

_Lily_

She tied her reply to the owl's leg and patted it goodbye. As it flew away, she slipped her mother's letter under her robes. _Now_…

Lily's eyes were rounder than usual, but no tears came. _Why?_ She gathered her things. She answered Rose's question, not remembering the words she had said, but knowing it had been convincing. _Kate was dead_. Lily did not know what to make of the fact. She did not know what she felt, or if she felt anything. She walked to the nearest bathroom.

Staring at herself of the mirror, she wondered what was going on. Her cheeks were redder than usual, and her facial expression was one of bewilderment. Still, her eyes were dry. She was alone in the bathroom when she spoke as clearly as she could, looking at her reflection squarely in the eyes.

"I am Lily Luna Potter, and my childhood best friend, Kate Peters, is dead."

It did not make any difference. Why was that? She kept her voice steady, objective:

"I am Lily Luna Potter. What does that even mean?"

She tilted her head to the right. Apart from the colour of her hair, she could see no resemblance with the first woman after whom she was named. What was more, she was not like her at all: not girly, not friendly, not smart, not _brave_. They were both good at Transfiguration –

"That doesn't count. I am Lily Luna Potter. What?"

She tilted her head to the left. She could not expect to physically resemble the second woman after whom she was named – _although,_ she thought wryly, _the bewildered expression_… But they were both loners. Both eccentrics, in their own way.

"Okay. I am Lily Luna Potter, and my childhood best friend, Kate Peters, is dead. That still doesn't mean anything."

* * *

><p>It was late. The common room fire was dying. Lily was struggling through her Potions essay. She had about as much inspiration as the Forbidden Forest had dragons. <em>None<em>. The only thought that came, again and again, was the one that had been nagging her all week: 'Why am I not sad? Why did I not cry?' James was the only other person in the room. He seemed tired, he was quiet, he _worked_ – not at all like his usual self.

"J? What's wrong?"

Lily was the only person in the world who called him 'J'. It made her feel special, having a unique nickname for her brother. Everybody else nicknamed him 'Jamie' or simply called him 'James' or 'Potter'. _Unoriginal_.

"Nothing, sis. I'm fine. This essay…"

Her brother looked half mad. His eyes were haggard, his hair even scruffier than usual, his face pale. He was skinnier, too, now that Lily looked closely. _Weird_.

"You're not fine," Lily dismissed with a roll of eyes. She paused and thought, while he seemed to gather his thoughts, chewing the end of his quill. "Ah. It's Haver, isn't it?"

"What, Lily, what are you saying?" James sounded distracted.

Haver was the new Quidditch Captain, the other beater, a fifth year. If James had been expecting the title, he would be green with jealousy: after all, _he_ was in sixth year. Had James been expecting the title? With all his pranks and misbehaving? Could he really be…? _Yes, jealous_.

"You wanted to be named Captain."

"What?" His mind was not there. He looked up, "What's up, sis?"

"Forget it," she sighed. After a few minutes, she could not suppress a new question. "J? What exactly do you plan on doing, once you leave Hogwarts?"

This time, she had started with his nickname, and he had heard. He looked at her. What could he answer? He sighed, looked down. _Shame_.

"I dunno. I… I thought I could play for a while."

_Ah_. Lily understood. He 'thought' he could play. Past tense. The Captain title. Haggard looks. It all came together very clearly.

"Liszt? Are you okay?"

James too had a special nickname for her sister: 'Liszt'. He had heard her play one of the composer's songs, when she was little. He had called her that funny name to nag her a bit. The nickname had stayed. Lily liked it. It was affectionate. It was _different_.

Lily was so surprised to hear her out-of-it brother ask her a question that she answered honestly.

"I don't know. I think so. Kate died."

For a few seconds after she answered, everything in the Common Room was still. James's mouth was hanging open. Then, he seemed to snap out of his exhaustion and surprise: he closed his mouth, put his things down, walked over to Lily and hugged her tight. Still holding her, her murmured in her ear:

"What do you mean, you 'think' you're okay?"

He backed away, just enough to study her face. She looked… okay.

"I don't know. I'm not sad or anything. I haven't cried. J, why haven't I cried? I just want to know why," she was pleading, her voice was shaking, but she was not crying.

He was at loss. He looked in the distance, searching for the right answer. When he found none, he tightened his grip around her. Lily let herself fade into him. 'Now would be a fantastic moment to cry,' she thought. But her eyes were as dry as they had been for the past week. She buried her face in the comfortable nook between his neck and his shoulder.

"I love you, J."

"I love you too, Liszt. Very much."

* * *

><p>Lily sat beside Steve, one of Hugo's insufferable friends, during Transfiguration. She resented it. He always made disobliging comments on her perfect but otherwise unique transfigurations. She was <em>good<em> at Transfiguration. She _liked_ adding silly details to her work. Why did he have to ruin it? _Git_.

Today, she had turned a shoe into a singing guinea pig. True, Professor Fry had not asked for a _singing_ guinea pig. But what was the harm in making it squeak the notes to the piece Lily was currently working on? _None_.

"Honestly, Lily, what _is_ that horrid song?"

If looks could kill, Steve would be dead. Lily took a deep breath and tried to ignore him.

"Oh, Lily, you've done it again!" cooed Professor Fry. "Twenty points for Gryffindor." She lowered her voice to talk to Lily alone. "Come to my office tonight. I have a project I'd like to show you."

Professor Fry was the only person Lily liked in her Transfiguration class – besides Hugo, of course. She was short and motherly in appearance; she reminded Lily of a younger, thinner Mrs. Weasley. Her hair were dark and she smiled often. She was an enthusiastic, eccentric, but demanding teacher, which suited Lily perfectly.

* * *

><p>The following day was the first day in two weeks to have Lily's thoughts focused on something other than 'Why am I not sad? Why did I not cry?'<p>

She thought about Professor Fry's project: musical magic. Composition and Transfiguration. Making self-playing instruments. She spent her History of Magic class reviewing her favourite classical pieces, trying to determine which ones she would appoint to each instrument. Professor Fry said they would start after Christmas; Lily could barely wait.


	6. Celestina Warbeck

VI. Celestina Warbeck

"Lily dear? Will you help me out please?"

"Coming, mum!"

Lily sighed. She knew what her mother meant when she asked her to help her prepare their Christmas visit to the Burrow. She meant she wanted to have a little mother-daughter chat. Lily was not quite sure she liked the idea, especially if the conversation involved Kate or feelings. Inevitably, it would.

"Here, cut these apples. So, how's Fay?"

Lily rolled her eyes. Mrs. Weasley had always been a bit disappointed by her only daughter's lack of cooking skills. The only dish Ginny mastered was the apple pie, and so she brought plenty with her every time she visited her mother. Similarly, Ginny was concerned by Lily's lack of girl friends: she knew what it felt like to have little of these, and she wished it wasn't something Lily experienced.

"Mum, honestly, I told you already I don't want anything to do with those babbling bowtruckles. And really, it's fine."

In other circumstances, Ginny would have chuckled a great deal at 'babbling bowtruckles'. Instead, she asked as she rolled the dough:

"Does she still fancy Jamie, then?"

"Yeah. I don't get it. How does she think she'd cope with his pranks? His short attention span? His messy room? She wouldn't last a day with someone like that. I forget to put away my toothpaste and she complains about it for a week."

Ginny smiled at Lily's protectiveness. She acted more like an older sister than a younger one at times; she could probably tell her mother why James had been so sullen lately. Part of Ginny wanted to ask, but the more motherly part of her hoped that maybe her daughter was still innocent and happy. Maybe she had not noticed how James had suddenly stopped acting out. If that was the case, Ginny did not want to burden her by asking. Lily, however, caught every bit of her mother's internal struggle, and offered:

"He's been kind of weird lately. I think… I think he needs a talk with uncle George. Don't tell J I said that, though."

Lily hoped her mother would not take what she said as a mere suggestion. She knew there was no other person James would listen to. George taught him to beat. He taught him more than a few tricks. Most importantly, even though he was successful, he did not _ooze_ success. (Not like Harry did, and Lily wondered if her brother would ever forgive their father for it. She certainly hoped so.)

Ginny nodded. "I'd noticed. I was wondering what to do about that – I'll talk to George. What about you, hun? How are things?"

Lily started rambling about her upcoming Transfiguration project, pointedly ignoring the dark clouds that had been gathering inside her ever since _that morning_.

* * *

><p>As soon as Lily entered the Burrow's kitchen, on the morning of Christmas Eve, she knew it was not a good place to be. Her grandmother was fretting about, baking five different dishes at the same time. There were things flying all across the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley caught sight of her granddaughter before she could turn around:<p>

"Lily, wait up, dear! …Oh, how could I forget the cranberries? Who forgets cranberries, honestly? Lily, will you fetch some in the village for me please?"

"Alone?"

Mrs. Weasley immobilized, her wild hair falling on her face. She exhaled.

"Of course, alone. How else? Your cousins are all busy doing things for me already. You're old enough."

Lily did not know how to counter that. Fortunately, Charlie walked in the kitchen at that very moment:

"Did I hear something about Ottery St. Catchpole? I haven't been there in forever! Lily, fancy a walk with your uncle?"

* * *

><p>"Thanks for coming with me, uncle Charlie," Lily shivered. "It's freezing!"<p>

Charlie rubbed his hands together. When he answered, his breath was foggy:

"How could I resist catching up with you? You know, I haven't heard from you in a while. I was getting worried," he winked. "So, James didn't get the captainship, huh? Who's your new captain?"

"Paul Haver. Beater, fifth year. He deserves it, though. Not that James wouldn't have, of course."

"Ah yeah? So he's good, then?"

"Very. He's organized, he's got stellar strategies, he doesn't make us train to death the way Dominique used to, and he isn't up on his high horses all the time. He even thought of this –" she noticed her uncle smiling brightly. "What?"

Charlie gave a small laugh as he asked: "Good-looking, then, is he?"

Lily squinted suspiciously at her uncle, and grinned in spite of pursing her lips together.

"I don't like guys just for being _good-looking_, you know." Fancying Paul had not yet come to her mind. She wondered if she did. _Probably not_. At any rate, she wanted to make sure her uncle knew she wasn't like those _babbling bowtruckles_.

"Oh! In that case, what does he have that's so special? 'Stellar strategies'?" Charlie knew better than to tease his niece too much, so he laughed it off with her and changed the subject. "Besides that, how is Quidditch?"

That was a good question: for once, it was not a question Lily could answer right away. Usually, her face lit up at the sheer mention of 'Quidditch'. Lately, though… it had been different.

"Oh, I don't know. It's getting kind of boring."

Boring? Charlie analysed the situation quickly. He had not expected this outcome. He thought Lily would smile and laugh and tell him all about her last catch. Instead, she sighed and looked away. Something was off. He wondered if it had anything to do with the news Ginny had sent him two months ago.

"Boring?"

"Yeah… like every catch is the same. It's too easy. I've been doing this for ten years," she sounded strangely old as she answered. "It used to make me so happy to feel the Snitch between my fingers, but now it just makes me feel bored."

Charlie sighed. What could he say? He loved his niece. All he wanted for her was to be happy. If Quidditch could not do that for her… On the other hand, he knew her: knew she had taken after her mother, knew Quidditch was the one thing she had always unconditionally loved (besides music, of course). He did not want her to lose that love, for her own sake.

"Well, if seeking doesn't make you feel happy anymore… that's what Quidditch is for, you know. Making you feel good. Did you consider switching to chaser? You're definitely good enough at chasing for that."

"Yeah… I suppose. So, how about you, uncle Charlie? Did you visit Professor Johnson lately?"

"I did. I stopped at his place for a few days on my way there."

"I love his classes. He has this way of teaching things, I don't know, he's just interesting."

"Ah, I always knew he'd be a great teacher. Some days, kids from Romanian wizarding schools come for field trips. He always used to take care of that."

They reached Ottery St. Catchpole at that moment, and Charlie greeted it enthusiastically.

"I don't know how these Muggles manage to make this village so beautiful every Christmas without using magic! What do you think, Lily, should we asked them?"

They laughed their way to the store.

* * *

><p>Lily wondered how it was that Mrs. Weasley never got sick of Celestina Warbeck. Looking around the living room, it was obvious she was not the only one with that thought: her aunt Fleur had obviously never gotten used to the atrocity, and Roxanne kept turning down the volume. The others seemed to ignore it satisfyingly, though: her grandfather was discussing 'electricity' with Fred; Ginny, Angelina and Dominique bonded over anecdotes from their days with the Holyhead Harpies; George, James, Louis and Teddy were engaged in a heavily modified game of gobstones; Victoire was braiding Rose's bushy hair with expert hands; Harry and Hermione seemed to be talking about house-elves; Ron was playing tricks for Lucy and Molly; Fleur and Audrey were adding the finishing touches to the decorations; Albus and Hugo were nowhere to be seen, probably conspiring; and Bill, Charlie, and Percy were reminiscing the family trip to Egypt, almost 30 years ago.<p>

Lily was plucking the strings of her violin absent-mindedly, wondering whether or not she liked this Christmas, and not being able to reach a conclusion.


	7. From the New World

VII. From the New World

**A/N: The road to happiness is long and much like a roller-coaster ride. Happy!Lily will make her first appearance in chapter 10. At the moment I plan this story to be about 15 chapters long. Thanks again to those of you who follow/favourite/review this story. I'm ever so grateful! A little specification: there's not a lot of Harry in this story simply because I can't write him. I know his character as a kind and resilient child, and as a moody and frustrated teenager, but I'm unsure of what he would be like as an adult. I do know that he is a great father and that James loves him. However, I think in this particular point in James's life, the last thing he needs is a lecture from The Boy Who Lived/The Chosen One/The Final Defeater of Voldemort (whereas George acts as a 'softer', less patronising replacement father figure.)**

Lily knocked on Professor Fry's door twice. Before she could knock a third time, her teacher opened the door, smiling brightly.

"Lily! Come in!"

Professor Fry always looked as though she knew a very exciting and happy secret no one else did. Like she knew something wonderful was about to happen. Lily liked that about her: it made her look like she lived partly in another world.

The office was almost as messy as Neville's: she, too, had lots of records and a gramophone, and heaps of books scattered everywhere. She recognised several items from other countries: Persian rugs, Indian textiles used as curtains, an intricate Chinese folding screen, colourful Peruvian clothing, a small Japanese tea set, Matryoshka dolls, and an Inuit sculpture. One wall of the office was almost entirely covered by a blackboard. The board was gray with chalk dust, filled with Arithmantic equations, Transfiguration graphs and charts, diagrams with arrows, and scribbled-down words. There were musical instruments in the office Lily knew (a violin, a cello) and others she had only ever dreamed of: a harp, a flute, an oboe, a clarinet, a trumpet, a trombone, a tuba, a double-bass, a viola, a bassoon, a French horn, timpani, cymbals… In fact, there was almost enough variety to make an orchestra!

"Ah, you've guessed, haven't you? Enough variety for an orchestra? I can see it in your smile."

"This is… incredible! Is this what we're going to do?"

"Once we're good enough, yes. You already know that Transfiguration can be used to charm instruments into playing songs, I imagine? Well, going by your guinea pig…" They laughed and her teacher continued: "We're going to, eventually, make them all play their part in a symphony. It'll be tricky because we only have one of each."

"So we'll need to make some resonate more than others? Oh, Professor Fry, this is so cool! What symphony do you want to make?"

"Well, that's partly why I asked for your help. I heard you're much more knowledgeable than I am when it comes to classical music. What do you say? Is there a symphony you'd like to put up?"

Lily blushed and smiled shyly. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.

"Hm… I'd like to do Dvorak's Ninth. _From the New World_."

"Dvorak! He wrote the _Slavonic Dances_, right? I think I have a record of him somewhere… _Accio Dvorak_!" Three records flew in Professor Fry's hands. She jumped. "Looks like I have three! Oh, the _Slavonic Dances_ are on this one, as well as a waltz…"

"Aw, those pieces are lovely as well."

"Here it is! From the New World! Let's listen to it, shall we?"

They spent the rest of the cold Saturday afternoon listening to the loud symphony, searching catalogues for score orders, and practicing the enchantments on a single violin.

* * *

><p>From the day she had learned to make her violin play by magic, Lily had not given Kate a single thought. She did not know how she felt or if she felt at all: there was no sadness, no boredom, no happiness, no grief, no contentment, no sorrow that she could identify. There was only music, all-encompassing, filling her up, invading all her thoughts. <em>Music, music, music<em>. It was an obsession. Obsession killed the moods (most of them, at least).

She was forced to have rational thoughts once in a while, in her classes for example. Even then, music stayed at the back of her mind, a constant strumming and plucking of strings. This presence was the reason she was left behind in Herbology, one February afternoon. She had caused the biggest mess Neville had ever seen in a classroom: there were petals, leaves and branches everywhere. Dirt covered every inch of surface in the greenroom. Neville had not known how to react. He could not clean the place by magic in a matter of seconds, or he would lose a majority of the plants to magical trauma. There was only one way to do it: he had to salvage the plants one by one, place them in new pots, and only then could he give the greenroom a magical clean-up. He knew Lily had not meant any harm, but he believed she still had to help out. For this reason, she was elbow-deep in the fungi she had studied earlier that day, while Neville was classifying the needier specimens.

Lily felt sorry for her clumsiness. She actually did. For once, she brought her full attention to the outside world and observed Neville as he plucked at tiny blue things with tweezers. He was unshaven. _Uncharacteristic_. His face was serious: more serious than it usually was when he was concentrating. Then, his expression shifted: concern. She could tell he was looking for something to say, but lacked inspiration. She felt a sudden outrage at this all-too-familiar situation: reading a question in the face of someone she loved, but never hearing it (mum, daddy, Charlie, everyone). It was immature, it was unnecessary, but she could not resist challenging him:

"Go ahead, ask."

Both of Neville's eyebrows shot up. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not this.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone, all the time, when they're with me, I can see them think. A question. Only, I never get to know what the question is, because none of them dare to ask me. You're the bravest of them, so just please, just say it."

She was angry. Where was all this anger coming from?

Neville's mouth hung open for a few seconds. It closed. He blushed. She was right about the question. However, he was not sure, this very moment, if she was right about him being brave. He wondered if he really could muster the bravery required to tell an angry teenager the truth. He took a deep breath and tried:

"We're just a little worried, Lily. We want to know how you're feeling."

"Worried? _Worried?_ Well I'm feeling _just fine_, and you can keep your worries for yourself!" She replied harshly, before salvaging the rest of the fungi and sprinting off to her dormitory without eating dinner.

* * *

><p>She had taken out her violin, and the anger had left her as quickly as it had come, leaving place for her favourite thoughts. <em>Music, music, music<em>.

Other than coursework, Quidditch was suffering from her obsession. She had grown even more bored of seeking, and so she caught the Snitch extra-fast to make the games as short as possible. When they had beaten Slytherin in less than a minute, one Saturday in March, Haver had taken her aside. The others were celebrating the win against their rivals; Lily wondered, annoyed, why he did not do the same.

"Lily…" He bit his lip in hesitation. "You're a magnificent seeker, you know that. It's just…" How to say this? "Nobody wants to win 150 points to none."

Lily lifted one eyebrow, her tone impertinent. "Oh? You'd rather lose?"

He sighed and looked down, then decided to react differently. He looked Lily squarely in the eyes when he answered her silly question defiantly:

"Actually, yes. I'd rather play a real game and lose."

He did not break eye contact. Lily was fighting a losing battle against the blush attacking her cheeks. _He would rather play a real game and lose. Oh._ His eyes were blue and round (so round). He was much taller than she was: he was older and she had inherited her mother's small frame. She felt something pirouetting in the pit of her stomach. She gritted her teeth: she did not fancy Paul, she did not fancy Paul, she did not fancy Paul.

"I quit."

"What?" Paul's eyes were popping out of their sockets. She had surprised him, all right.

Lily's face relaxed for a second as she saw the look of need and concern on her captain's face. It tensed up again when she realised what she was doing. 'He will not win, he will not win, he will not win.'

"Did I stutter? It's boring. _I quit_." She was ruder than she would have liked, but it was all she could do to keep control of the situation.

Paul's eyes were still popping out of their sockets (how were they still there?) and his mouth was closing and opening silently. His voice was urgent when he finally spoke:

"But Lily… I mean if you find it boring you could always trade places with Sarah and play chaser. She loves playing seeker, I'm sure she would agree. Please…"

"Bye."

Lily was angry and sad and miserable and all she wanted to do was crawl in a whole and vanish forever. Instead, she settled on filling an empty classroom with the sounds of her furiously scratched bow against the strings of her violin until long past curfew.


	8. Swallowed Whole

VIII. Swallowed Whole

**A/N: The lining of events is a little odd in this chapter (quite symmetrical), but doesn't life have its way of giving us absolutely awful days sometimes? **

**Warning: Lily is growing up (themes evolve accordingly).**

**Also: thank you. Thank you if you read this. Thank you qwerty1245 and merdarkandtwisty for your wonderful reviews (they make me happy).**

**One more thing: Easter, then exams might space the updates a little (2-4 days).**

Her parents had not freaked out and raised their voices. They had seemed confused, concerned. Why did Lily quit Quidditch? They had not expected this.

James had had a similar, but muffled reaction. Everything he did was muffled lately.

Or maybe it was Lily's perception, because everything from the outside world was muffled when it got to her. There was only one thing: _music, music, music_. Lily was beginning to master the musical enchantments. She had already figured how to charm the flute to play the first and second flute parts for the symphony. In April of her fourth year, all she was able to think about was the first clarinet part. It filled her mind, her heart, her soul. It was everything. _Music, music, music_.

There were other things in her life, of course. Tiny, insignificant things. They all seemed to come down to music, somehow. Music was transporting her, breathing for her, eating for her, speaking for her. The others – those she did not love – the other students – seemed to be standing on the other side of a veil. At times, she caught bits of their conversations, when they were talking about her. 'Weird' was a recurring term. Lily did not mind. She had her violin and her project.

On the second Saturday of April, Lily woke up with a clear idea in mind. Little did she know that this day would send her back to reality and turn her world upside-down.

She was ready to start charming the clarinet. She knew it, she felt it. It was time. She gulped down her breakfast and went directly to Professor Fry's office to borrow the instrument. Excitement flooded through her veins. She could do this. She would do this. Today would be wonderful.

Three times, she knocked on her teacher's office's door. There was no answer. Eager to get started, Lily got in the office anyway, thinking that she could always leave a note on the desk explaining why she took the clarinet. Upon entering, however, Lily froze – she heard moans, gasps and strangled laughs. She was fourteen – she knew what it meant – her teacher was in a nearby room with someone else. She shrugged it off. 'About time,' she thought. Lily had always wondered how it was that wonderful, brilliant, beautiful Professor Fry was still single. She hurried with her note writing, until she heard a rasp that made her blood turn cold.

"_Viola_."

Viola was Professor Fry's first name. The word in itself was not important. The voice was important. She knew that voice. She knew… What was he doing here? Lily's cheeks turned red in anger. Forgetting all manners and common sense, she burst in the neighbouring room. Two of her favourite teachers were entangled. If Lily still had sense left in her, she would be thankful they were dressed. But there was nothing in Lily but teenage angst and fury.

"Neville! I can't – I can't believe you'd do this to Hannah! You, of all people. You –"

"Lily…"

"No! How –"

Neville had taken a few steps forward. He was calm, ready to let her scream as much as she wanted, but also willing to get his point across. When she could not finish her question, he said softly:

"Hannah left me a year ago, Lily. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I should've. I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

If Lily had not been filled with rage, she might have understood. She might have considered the strange edge in his voice and the sorrowful glimmer in his eyes. She might have put together his unshaven face and serious expression from a year ago with her parents' whispered conversations from last summer. But now, Lily was fury and her vision was filled with stars. Unable to utter another word, she burst out of the room and ran to her dormitory, leaving the clarinet and the half-written note behind.

Thankfully, it was empty. She paced around, fuming. Threw herself on her bed, got right back up. Took her violin, played the most discordant chords she could think of, again and again until she was well enough to play an actual song. _Thinking_. She had to think. Or rather, she had to think of something else. Something complicated. _Homework_.

Lily sped through five essays in six hours. Her plan was going well. She stalled on her Care of the Magical Creatures homework, though. There was a piece of information missing. She – _oh!_ In class, she had forgotten to draw the patterns of the young unicorn's horn! She gathered her things in a storm and headed straight to Professor Johnson's cabin to ask him about it. Her thoughts were hazy and filled with foals, unicorn tail hairs and the magical properties several pieces of a unicorn's anatomy. These things happen when you study too much in a short amount of time: theoretical facts blend with everyday thoughts and create a maddening effect.

The air around the cabin smelled nice, of Earl Grey and honey. It was unusual, yet familiar. If Lily had not been so filled with incoherent thoughts, she might have noticed it. Instead, she walked up to the door. She knocked and, for the first time since she had left the Gryffindor Tower, she listened. She heard raspy laughs, knocks, low growls and loud breaths. She froze. 'Not again,' she thought. She wanted to run back to her bed. Why did every teacher in school have to do _this_ on Saturdays? Why were they not content with drinking tea, eating biscuits, and giving away detentions? She took a deep breath and finally noticed the smell. _Earl Grey. Honey. What?_ All common sense leaving her for the second time today, she burst in the one-room cabin. She was not as lucky as she had been last time, though – there we not as many clothes involved as there ideally would have been.

"Charlie!"

Her breath was hot; her head was spinning. She could barely see her uncle jumping into his jeans and her teacher hiding beneath a sheet. She heard the urgency in his uncle's voice when he spoke to her, but she could not hear the words. All she could think was, 'Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he trust me? Why did he have to make it a secret?' She felt betrayed, deceived. It would not have mattered to her. She loved her uncle. _Why?_

He came up to her and sighed. "I was afraid of this," he admitted.

_Afraid? Scared, was he?_ Lily was fuming. Rage was burning her insides. Her cheeks flamed. She put as much venom as she could in her next words, spoken low for maximum effect:

"You lousy coward."

She was being unfair, and she might have realised it if she was not so angry. She turned around and ran back to the castle, ignoring her uncle's calls behind her. There was only one thing left to soothe her rage: Beethoven Fifth Symphony, _Fate Knocking On the Door_. She might have realised the irony of its title regarding her situation, had she not been so intoxicated with fury.

Hours passed without Lily noticing. Suddenly, she noticed the darkness outside, thought about what she had eaten that day – half a bowl of porridge – and felt sick. _Outside_, she had to go outside. _Air_, she needed air. She quickly packed her violin and headed straight to the nearest tower, the Astronomy Tower.

'Oh, no. No no no. Not again,' she thought when she reached its peak. _Why?_ Why did all these things happen in one, small, miserable day?

James was standing two feet from the tower's battlements, looking in the distance. Immobile. Lily wept for the first time since _that morning_. Silent tears fell down her face because _she knew_. She knew exactly what was going through her brother's mind. She had had those thoughts before, too – although she never came as close as he was now. All of her angst left her. She was not an angry teenager anymore, but a worried sister. Oh, she had been so blind. How could she have been so blind? But even if she had seen it, all of her brother's hurt, would she have known what to do? She was fourteen, broken and immature. She would never have known what to do.

Instead, she stood at the top of the stairs, weeping, watching her brother, a few feet away. It was too much. She sniffed. James jumped: he thought he was alone.

"Liszt?"

His voice sounded both hollow and surprised, and Lily did not quite understand. She was crying loudly now.

"Would you really do it, J?"

James looked lost, but decisive. He walked up to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eyes when he answered seriously:

"No," and it seemed he wanted to add, 'I love you too much.' His voice broke when he carried on, "but by Merlin I want to."

Lily was reassured and concerned at the same time. Her crying slowed down. James walked back to his initial position. He seemed to be asking the stars for guidance, for tips on what to say and how to say it. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke, his voice stronger and angrier than before:

"Do you ever wonder why I always call you Liszt? Why I never say Al's full name? Do you ever think about our names? _Lily Luna, Albus Severus, James Sirius?_"

Lily swallowed thickly. "Of course."

"I hate our names. I _hate_ them."

Lily almost took a step back from the venom, the pure hatred and the anger in her brother's voice. Instead, she stood her ground. She knew just what he meant: he loved their parents; he did not hate the men and women after whom they were named. He just hated the names. She remained silent: it was, after all, the best way to agree. Her brother waited a few moments, looking up to the stars again. He then did something that surprised Lily. He took a parchment out of his pocket and spoke with amounts of bitterness Lily would not have believed him capable of:

"You know what this is? _This_ is a map of the entire school grounds. It shows where every person is. It shows every room, secret or not. It shows old secret passages as well as new ones when they are built. It was made," he sighed, "by the men after whom I was named. And Teddy's father. I nicked it from dad years ago." He chuckled, but the laugh was empty and still _so, so_ bitter. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to make it work? Or even to just find out it wasn't just some old piece of parchment?"

Lily knew what he did not have the courage to add and she felt the need to contradict him. "You're not a failure, J."

He made a disbelieving noise. She continued:

"I love you. You taught me everything. You took care of me. You're the best beater this school has seen since uncle George and Fred. _I'm serious, J._ You know I don't say things just to make people feel better. I mean what I say. You used to have a huge thirst for adventure. Well, when did you let that go? When did the world become such a colourless place?"

She let the words sink in. She could not see her brother's face. Words flowed out of her mouth as they had done all day, except now they were controlled. She was not angry. She knew what she was saying and she hoped it was enough.

"You can't change the way you feel, but you can at least get yourself together and rock the Quidditch Finals and get a job you'll love. You might play pro here or you might play abroad. Hell, you might travel to foreign countries and try to convert carpet-flyers to Quidditch! I heard they pay people for that. Well, you'd be awesome at that job, you know. Please, J. This isn't the end."

James turned around. She smiled softly, walked up to him, and gave him the biggest hug she could. They stayed together for a few minutes. Lily ignored the fact that her hair became wet. She relaxed. He smelled of pine and polished wood. She liked that.

Eventually, he let go and croaked out before going down the stairs:

"Thanks, Liszt. Good night. I love you."

Lily looked up to the stars. She thanked them because they had given her brother the words to speak. It was her turn now to ask them for guidance and to wonder if she had said the right things. Her heart still hurt from the worry. Would James be all right? 'Please,' she thought, looking at the stars. She returned to her dormitory minutes later. She was careful, because she knew curfew had been hours ago – after all, she was not a complete waste at Astronomy. By the sky, she guessed the time was around two or three in the morning. She could not feel it, though. Her day had been too hectic.

There was one person left in the Common Room. _Oh no_. Lily's misfortunes had not ended. Haver was looking up at her, sleepy and surprised.

"Lily? But – but curfew was hours ago…"

"See if I care," Lily replied bluntly. Judging by Haver's surprise, the captain had been asleep while James had come in. Her brother had been quieter than she was, it seemed.

"What were you doing?" Paul's eyebrows were furrowed: he was obviously confused.

"Playing."

Lily smiled internally at Haver's reaction: she could distinguish the first few seconds, when he thought she meant she played Quidditch, from the following seconds, when he realised she could not possibly have done so, from the final moments, when he noticed her violin case in her hand. He looked at it with curiosity:

"What's that?"

Lily pursed her lips. It had been a long day. She felt the sudden need to let herself fall on her bed fully clothed. On the other hand, there was something in Paul's face. She could not have said what it was, but it made her stay.

"It's a violin." She opened the case and showed it to him.

Paul's face was reverent when he asked shyly, "Play for me? Please?"

Lily had no idea why she tucked her violin under her chin and laid her bow on its strings. She had no idea what she would play. The notes came by themselves.

_The Swan_.

She had not played it since that summer afternoon, for Kate.

As the melody flowed out of her limbs, truths flowed into her mind. The first truth was that she had lost Kate long before she had died, and that explained why Lily had not cried when she learned the news. The second truth was that she was not all right, but she was not sure why. The third truth was that there were several things she had done wrong.

Three incidents. Three men. Three truths. One song. One pair of gentle blue eyes boring through her. Dozen of tears rolling down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Lily was alone, the next morning, when she covered her toast with marmalade. She was perfectly fine with that, really. She was free to think of Dvorak, the clarinet, Spring, or Ancient Runes (anything but yesterday's events). It annoyed her very much when Paul sat down beside her with a cheerful smile and a bright 'Good morning, Lily!' She dismissed him in one breath:<p>

"Look, Haver, just because I was vulnerable last night or actually earlier this morning and I cried in your arms it _does not_ mean that I am willing to tolerate your presence while I'm eating delicious toast."

"But are you willing to be friends?"

"Again, still eating delicious toast."

She stared at her pumpkin juice with the hope that Paul would get the hint. She did not want to look at him; she did not want her stomach to lurch and jump; she did not want to acknowledge the pleasant tickle in her heart she would inevitably feel when her eyes would meet his.

When he left several moments later, her heart was as light with relief as it was heavy with sorrow.

**A/N: The association between Beethoven and angst was inspired by kikila's wonderful work on **_**The Rose Diaries.**_

**Happier times lie ahead for every single character in this story, of course.**


	9. Three Letters

IX. Three Letters

**A/N: Thank you LilacLovely12 and KKool for your encouraging reviews! KKool, how did you guess there would be more Albus in this chapter? ;)**

**Side note: in one of my countless Charlie headcanons, he has basic knowledge of German, French and Romanian because of his work.**

_Dear Lily,_

_I apologise. If I could, I would apologise a million times, because it was absolutely unfair of me to never tell you about what happened with Hannah._

_I spent more and more time at Hogwarts. Research and teaching took up so much of my time. I seldom took the time to visit her. She became tired of that. We had rows. Lots. And last spring, she decided she deserved better (and she was right)._

_I hope you will forgive Viola and, eventually, me too. We should have been more careful, and for that I will never apologise enough. Viola has been a supportive friend for as long as she has been a colleague; she is bright, optimistic, brilliant, brave, funny… And she loves you. We both love you. We would also like to have you over for tea at my office, next Sunday, to make amends._

_I understand if you feel you don't want to come, but I should be the happiest man if you did,_

_Neville_

* * *

><p><em>Dearest Lily,<em>

_I'm sorry. I will never say it enough. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I apologise. Entschuldigungen. Je suis désolé. __Îmi pare r__ă__u. __I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve this. Not this way. I feel I owe you an explanation. I should have given it to you face to face, but I had to leave in the morning. This cannot wait, although I'm looking forward to a talk with you in the summer. If you want to, of course. I'll understand if you don't._

_Do you remember, that summer when you were five? Maybe not – it's so long ago. You were already a fantastic seeker then, but I still gave you lessons. For fun. It was more like just flying together. You asked me why it was that I didn't have a wife and children of my own. I told you it was because dragons were the love of my life._

_It was true, you know. Dragons are my one true love. They are the love of my life. I will never love anything or anyone more than them. I love Ben, but I will never love him as much as I love dragons. And he knows that. Ben and I love each other, but we are not serious about it. We don't feel the need to make it official and tell the world. I chose a life with dragons 34 years ago, and I never regretted my decision._

_We have not told our families about our relationship (except for Bill, because how could I not?). You are absolutely right, I __am__ a lousy coward. You have every right in the world to call me one and to think of me as one. But one day, if you feel you can, I wish you would forgive Ben (he's fond of you, you know). And maybe, just maybe – me._

_I love you anyway,_

_Your uncle Charlie_

* * *

><p><em>Liszt,<em>

_I'm sorry I scared you. I promise I would never do __it__, __ever__._

_I've been feeling really awful for too long now. It started with just feeling inadequate because of my name. And then when Haver got the captainship, I lost hope. After that… you said it well: the world was a 'colourless place'. Everything was gray and tasteless. It was like I got caught in a deep fog, and couldn't get out, so I just spiralled down, down. Stuck in the fog for what felt like forever._

_I guess I will never thank you enough for that push you gave me that night._

_I don't feel better. I'm still caught in the fog. But I'll try, I promise. I'm trying. I'm going to shower the Slytherins with bludgers at the Quidditch final. And whatever does or doesn't happen after that, I'll deal with. Until one day the fog will be gone._

_Much love,_

_J_

* * *

><p>Lily was sitting on her bed, the Saturday afternoon following that awful day. It was the sunniest day of spring. Every student was in the grounds, enjoying the warm weather. But Lily needed to think. Her violin was tucked under her chin; she played contemplative Debussy. Three letters were laid on her bed. Three letters from three men. Two weeks ago, she would have said they were three of the bravest men she knew. Now… she knew she was wrong to think they were three cowards.<p>

Mostly, the letters made her feel guilty rather than angry. She knew she should not have barged in on any of them (except for James, possibly, maybe). She had behaved irrationally, immaturely, unfairly. Even if she had been right in her accusations (and she had not been), it was not her place to tell adults who to spend intimate moments with.

She realised how wrong she had been. Now that she thought about it, it had been a long time since she had last seen Neville and Hannah happily together. What was more, she knew Neville, she knew Professor Fry, and she knew they were perfect for each other. They were both kind, brave and eccentric, but in different ways. They completed each other like two pieces of a puzzle. She wished them all the happiness, and she felt sick when she thought of the impact her 'barging in' might have had on their relationship.

Her uncle was 51. She could not possibly expect him to come out, not after having read his letter. She wished he would, but it was his choice and no one else's. Neither he nor Professor Johnson seemed to suffer from their situation. In fact, they seemed happy and comfortable. Who was Lily to tell them what to do?

With every scratch of the bow on the violin's strings, Debussy fell into oblivion. He was gradually replaced by a crazy improvisation: the kind she always did when she was thinking. The more discordant the chords were, the clearer Lily's thoughts became and the better she felt. She loved discordant chords. She knew she was probably the only person in the world to feel that way, but she did not care. This was merely another one of her numerous quirks.

She was in the middle of outdoing herself in matters of discordance when Donna and Fay burst in the dormitory. Fay scowled:

"Ugh, Lily, must you really play this loud? And this… awfully? Honestly, you're so weird. I'll just never get you. The nicest day of spring and you just sit here and make your ears bleed! You don't even care that there's a pack of sixth year guys lounging in their swimming trunks by the Great Lake, do you? It's like you're from another planet or something. Like, Planet Weirdo? Is that what that place is called? No wonder you're the only one who lives there, the –"

Lily did not catch the rest of Fay's speech, for she had run out of the room. It was all she could do to keep herself from bursting in tears in front of Fay. She ran as fast as she could. Her entire face was wet. Fay was always so mean. She was the meanest. Lily felt too weak and too vulnerable to curse her. She burst out of the castle and found an empty, secluded patch of grown. She let herself fall on the newly awakened grass, taking in the shock as a relief. She cried for another five minutes. As she calmed down, she heard:

"Hey Lu. You ok?"

"Sev? Yeah. Just a bit tired of not having friends, is all."

She felt her brother lie down next to her. Albus and her had always called each other by their middle names as children, for the sole purpose of annoying each other. They had kept the habit. Weird nicknames were the norm in their family.

"_I'm_ your friend. And your enemy. I'm your brother, and I love you, Lu," Albus said softly as he slid his fingers between hers and squeezed.

"Thanks, Sev. Fay was mean again."

"That girl is a right harpy, you know that."

They remained silent for a few minutes, her hand never leaving his. Albus's voice was still soft when he spoke.

"I suppose you know it'll be the anniversary of the… the end of the war. Next week. Dad's going crazy from all the media coverage. You know how much he hates the _Prophet_." He paused before going on: "They've already published the piece on Bill. Lots of photos, of course: they love to show the scars."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Lily asked quietly.

"Of course. I'm just telling you the facts… soften the blow for when you see the articles."

"Sev, you know full well I don't read the _Prophet_."

"I don't know I'm just… making conversation."

Albus would never change. He used to be a middle child: taking out the frustration his older brother gave him on his younger sister, but always half-heartedly, because it was expected. Albus liked to do the right thing and the expected thing: he was boring but constant. He was boring in a good way, in a way you easily loved, in a way you could rely on. Lily had despised him as a child, because he had forced it onto her. She loved him now, in the foreign yet familiar way he was. Constant. Resilient. Soft-spoken. Kind. More like their father than Lily or James would ever be.

"Dad wrote… he said we might be asked to do interviews, too. All the 'Second Generation' crap. I hope it doesn't happen. I'm so boring. 'Here's young Albus Severus Potter, named after two war heroes, who only ever shines in Arithmancy class…' And James, he's hit a rough patch, huh?"

Self-deprecating. That was another of Albus's constants. His sarcastic sense of humour was what had saved him from the feelings of inadequateness.

Lily hummed. "He has."

"If they write an article on one of us, I hope it's you. People just don't acknowledge how brilliant you are."

Lily nearly choked on her breath. It had never occurred to her that her brother might see her as anything other than a cheerful, eccentric loner. It had certainly never occurred to her that anybody anywhere would use the word 'brilliant' to describe her. She felt a rush of love and gratitude for Albus as she squeezed his hand and whispered:

"Shh… it's our secret."


	10. Hot Air Balloon

X. Hot Air Balloon

**A/N: Thanks to everyone reading. Reviews are welcome!**

The grass was damp. The first days of July had been gray, humid and hot. Lying in the grass did not feel entirely depressing: it was refreshing. When Lily looked up, she saw an opaque, uniform sheet of gloomy clouds. She felt her clothing become more and more humid from the dew. Had she had the motivation necessary to turn her head, she would have seen the hoops of her family's Quidditch field, looking lonely in the grim weather.

Lily was like the weather. Lethargic. Depressed. Quiet. She could not pull together the effort to unpack her violin and play. She did not want to play. Or eat, for that matter. Or do anything else. Instead, she stayed in the grass all day, while her parents worked and Albus did his Arithmancy homework. They were smart, doing boring things while the weather was awful, preparing for the sunshine that would inevitably come. Lily did not want to be smart. She did not want to be anything.

Well, that was not fully true, for there was one thing Lily liked to do: lying in the grass.

She used to do it all the time with Kate. She remembered a summer afternoon where the skies had been as gray as they were now. They had been in the field with the cows.

_Lily was lying on her back, while Kate was sitting down with her legs spread out in front of her and her cello standing in between. There was a light stench from the proximity of the animals, but neither girl cared. They were playing a lovely, upbeat, happy Bach piece. Music brought them happiness. They sped up the tempo, laughing and giggling as they played faster, faster, until they could not keep up. At this moment, they played awfully discordant notes. Kate let herself fall on her back. Both girls were in fits of laughter and worked hard to catch their breath. Every time they stopped laughing, they sighed at the same time, which inevitably sent them giggling again. It took them at least twenty minutes before they could start breathing normally. They gazed at the clouds for a few more minutes before Kate spoke._

"_Last summer, Mum and Dad took me to a hot air balloon festival. It was beautiful."_

_Lily asked her what hot air balloons were. Kate was a bit taken aback by her question, but she loved talking._

"_They're like huge, colourful sheets sewed in cool shapes. Like, there's the traditional balloon-shaped ones, but there's other ones. Anything you can imagine. Dogs, cars, ice cream cones, anything. In any colour in the world. Under the dome formed by the sheets, there's a hot-air-making thingy. So the air in the dome is hotter than the air outside, and you know, hot air is lighter than cold one. So they fly. All of the hot air balloons, they all start flying, all at once. The sky is filled with colour and shaped and beautiful things. It was wonderful. It was magical. Imagine."_

_Lily did not sneer at Kate's use of the word 'magical', for it was exactly the word that came to her mind when she imagined the scene her friend depicted. For a Muggle, Kate really was magical._

Absurd. Why would she think of that now? Useless.

And yet, Lily missed Kate terribly. It had been three years since she had last seen her. It had been a year and a half since she had died. She had been Lily's only friend. She still was the only friend Lily had ever had. Of course, she discarded her family members, who loved her by default. She should not discard them, but she was miserable and if it made her feel lonely to discard them, she would do so gladly. Oh, Lily knew she was being silly, immature and ungrateful. But her heart was a mess. She was an emotional wreck: she looked fine, but felt broken. She felt as though almost every person in her life had broken her heart.

James was better. He was gone. He thought Lily was happy. He was wrong. It was not his fault. Lily had made sure he would leave without remorse. He had gotten offers from three English teams, but had finally signed up as a Quidditch instructor in Tibet. Hungry for adventure and new experiences, he packed his bag the day after graduation.

Fay had not stopped being mean. Donna and Jane, despite being deserving Gryffindors, never stopped her. Did that mean they agreed? Lily thought so. She knew none of them liked her very much. She wished she would not care but she did. It would be nicer of them to just ignore her altogether. Lily would like that.

Neville had tried to mend her heart. He really had, but Lily would not let him. She wanted to let him, but she could not.

Charlie… she would hear from him soon. He would probably try to mend her heart, too. She would not let him.

Paul, oh Paul. Lily never thought about him for too long, because it made her entire being ache. Everywhere she looked afterwards, she saw two blue circles (his irises). It was too much to bear.

* * *

><p>Lily smiled. She was not unhappy today. Yesterday, she had been depressed. Tomorrow, she would no doubt be depressed once more. Today was different. Today, she met Charlie.<p>

He picked her up just after lunch. They would spend the day in Chudley, watch the Cannons play, eat out at a Muggle pub, and come back home. Lily was excited. She had not seen a Quidditch game since she had quit the team (and even though she did not miss playing, did not want to play anymore, she missed watching). She missed Charlie, too. She wanted to be happy with him, if only for a day.

They left the Potters' cottage without much ceremony and Charlie took Lily to Chudley by Side-Along Apparition. There, Charlie greeted his niece with an obscene number of apologies.

"Lily, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't speak to you earlier, you must be pretty mad, I…"

"No, uncle Charlie, it's fine!" Lily insisted, then mumbled: "I'm the one who should be apologising, really, what was I thinking, bursting in the cabin like that, I knew what I'd see, it was stupid, I –"

"Really, there's nothing to be forgiven, but I forgive you anyway," Charlie laughed. _He laughed_.

"How can you laugh?" But Lily laughed too. "I forgive you too, you know. Same."

"I… you're not angry? Mad? Disappointed?"

"No, really, it's fine. Really, it's none of my business who your… what's he called? Lover? Anyway. It's none of my business who he is. Or she. Or they. Are."

Lily was flustered. Charlie smiled. They were walking to the stadium – it was only a short walk away.

"I prefer to only be with one person at a time. And lover is… fine. Ben and I avoid discussing labels."

"Why?" Lily wondered how couples could be comfortable without labels. She did not have much experience in the matter.

"Well… labels are complicated when cohabitation isn't involved. And… we _have_ been together for about twenty years, now…"

"Whoa, that long?" She gaped at him; she had imagined something much less serious.

Charlie looked bemused. "I thought this was 'none of your business'?" He laughed. "Yeah, 'that long'," he answered, his face growing more serious. "You can see why labels are a taboo. But it's okay. We like it that way."

"Do you think he'll be your… label-less man forever?" Lily added quickly: "Sorry, I know I said it wasn't my business, you don't have to –"

Charlie smiled affectionately. "It's fine. And yes. I'm sure of it."

Lily wanted to ask her uncle why he did not want to 'discuss labels' if he believed he would love Professor Johnson forever, but she stopped herself. It might have been indiscreet and besides, he was busy rummaging through his pockets, trying to find a few other Sickles to pay for the tickets.

Minutes later, they sat in their seats, waiting for the game to start, while Charlie begun an interrogation of his own:

"What about _your_ love life, missy? Any guys? Or girls?"

Girls? Lily was a bit startled. It had never occurred to her to look at girls that way. She supposed that was her answer.

"I'm not really one for girls. Especially not the ones at Hogwarts. Especially not the ones in my dormitory."

"What's up with them?" Her uncle looked concerned.

"Uh… not much. They just like to remind me that I'm weird, that kind of stuff," Lily dismissed, hoping he would skim over the subject.

"You're not weird," he replied, looking slightly hurt.

"Well, that's not a very true statement, uncle Charlie." Self-deprecation had always worked for Albus, after all. Besides, it was true. Lily _was_ weird.

"You're not weird in the way they mean."

"I know." And she did.

Charlie finally decided to go back to the original subject. "So, guys, huh? What was that kid's name? The captain? Hamish?"

Lily would have smiled at his mess-up, but her stomach turned instead. She corrected him queasily, quietly, "Paul Haver."

"Fancy him?"

"I don't know," Lily answered so softly that she could barely hear herself. She looked at her uncle with the corner of her eye. He lifted his eyebrow encouragingly. "I… oh, it's such a silly story." She looked at Charlie once more. His face seemed to urge her on. "Alright. Hm, you know the day I… um… barged in on you? Gosh, that day was awful. I mean, other things happened to make it awful. I stayed up late. Playing. You know." He nodded. "When I got back to the Common Room, he was the only one there, and he asked me to play, and I should've just gone straight to bed, but I don't know why, I just played, and I played the song I'd played to Kate the _last time_." She swallowed back her tears. "And I just bloody burst in tears! It was idiotic. But he just held me, and said stuff, I don't really know what. And I got to bed, finally! And then next morning he couldn't leave me alone, asked if I wanted us to be friends, and I dismissed him."

"Lily, dear, I'm sure it wasn't _idiotic_. Want to tell me more about him? What's he like?"

Lily smiled faintly. Oh, how could she put it into words? She settled for an anecdote. "He… before I quit Quidditch, he said I had to stop catching the Snitch so fast. He said… he said he'd rather play a real game and lose, than win in a minute. He's…" She sighed. "He's just good, and fair, and so willing to put himself out of his comfort zone, it's unsettling."

Charlie smiled. "You fancy him, all right."

They paused as they watched the referee throwing the Quaffle. The game had begun. Charlie looked wistful as he went on:

"Lily, I… I just want you to know. There's one thing that's just really important, when it comes to these things. Loving someone is wonderful and beautiful and everything lovely in the world, but it's not a cure. You can't expect love to change anything. Some people are sad, then they fall in love and feel better, but it doesn't last. You've got to be able to stand on your own two feet, and love life as it is, before you start a relationship. I'm not saying that to… I just mean… I just want you to know. Some people remain sad all their lives…"

"Okay," Lily said. It made sense to her, even though it made her feel a bit hopeless. Even though she believed what her uncle had told her and she was sure she would follow his advice, she had a strange feeling. She put together the sound of his voice with his discourse on labels and the way he had written about dragons. "Do you believe in love, uncle Charlie?"

"Yes."

"Are you in love?"

"Yes."

"With Professor Johnson?"

"Yes."

Her silence was sceptical. He felt the need to continue:

"I'm not traditionally romantic, of course. And I'm sure it sounds absurd to you, who grew up around a bunch of lovebirds – your parents, Ron and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, and the others – but I'm just not capable of that."

"Have you ever tried?"

The reply was quieter. "Being someone's lovebird? Yes. I'm glad it's over."

Their attention was brought back to the game when a rogue bludger almost knocked Lily over.

* * *

><p>She had spent the day after Charlie's visit lying in the grass. It was still so gray, so rainy, so hot. When she had gotten to sleep, the night before, the taste of her fish and chips still on her lips, she had hoped for a little happiness. She had been wrong to expect it so soon, but she knew happiness would come eventually. She felt it.<p>

Rationally, she knew she should feel better. She knew she should not feel this way. In a perfect world, she would have known she was depressed. She would have known that depression could not be hauled out of her brain with simple wishful thinking. She would have known, at least partly, how to fix it. (In an even more perfect world, she would not have been depressed at all. But such worlds never existed.) No one taught her what depression was. She was surrounded by kind, loving, caring, intelligent people, but none of them were particularly good Legilimens. None of them could guess.

_Lethargy_.

It was the word she used to describe her state, for lack of a better one.

* * *

><p>It tickled her eyelids. <em>What? Sunshine. Oh<em>. Her eyelashes fluttered. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. Morning sunshine rivalled with flying and music in terms of loveliness. She had not seen it in such a long time, because of the clouds. Realising there would not be clouds in the sky if she properly opened her eyes, Lily bolt up, her eyes wide. It was delicious. If she could eat only sunshine for the rest of her life, she would.

She felt every one of her toes resting on her bedroom floor. She stretched and felt the pull in each and every one of her fingers. She ran a hand through her hair: it was messy but soft. Beautiful. There was a tingle in every single freckle on her body. She felt alive. She felt pretty, fit, and bright. She ran outside, her bare foot soon damp from the dew. Once she reached the Quidditch field, she let herself fall on the ground. _She felt_. She felt every blade of grass, every drop of water, every ray of sun. She looked up at the sky, where the sun was only just rising, and – _and she could see them_ (imagined them). Thousands of balloons of all shapes, colours and sizes were rising through the air, just like Kate had described. Beautiful, proud.

She felt herself rising through the air. Beautiful, proud. She was a hot air balloon.

With this realisation came the all-encompassing need to fly. Lily jumped up and ran to the broom shed. Inside it, she slowed down. She saw her Electrostar. It lay dusty and forgotten. She felt her heart clench, then release. Her fingers brushed against the handle. Her breath caught in her throat – it was beautiful. She put the tip of her fingers on the once-polished wood slowly, deliberately, firmly, one by one. She froze for a few seconds in this position and relished in the firm grip she held on her broom. Suddenly, in one swift movement, she flew out of the shed.

She let out a few cries of happiness. A few tears gathered in her eyes. Beauty, beauty. Loveliness. Wonder. _Oh_… She twisted, turned, did a few perfectly executed Wronsky feints. She had missed this. How had she not realised? Flying was in her blood, like a constant itching. I ran through her, made her breathe, and made her live. How had she lived without it for so long? (The truth: she had not lived, not really.) She laughed. Oh, her laugh was delicious. She wished she could eat it all up.

The rest of the morning had passed in a flurry of sunshine and giggles. Ginny, Harry and Albus had joined her minutes later, and they had played an impromptu 'girls vs. boys' (which girls won, obviously). Breakfast had followed, with teasing and laughter.

* * *

><p>August was happy. Lily still felt a bit lonely sometimes, and sad on a few occasions, but nothing paralysing. It was nothing she could not handle. She flew, watched plenty of Chudley Cannons games, played the violin, and planned the charming of the bassoon and the oboe she would undertake in September. She would have to adapt the English Horn solo to the range of the oboe – it excited her.<p>

She got news from James. He was going well. He would visit for Christmas.

Lily was quite pleased with herself when she climbed the Hogwarts Express, September 1st.


	11. Come Together

XI. Come together

**A/N: I apologise for the posting delay. Thanks to everyone who has taken interest in this story! As always, reviews are welcome.**

**A special thank you to bookluver52 who beta-reviewed this chapter.**

**Once again, Lily is growing up; do take note of the rating.**

The sun rose brightly on the morning of September 2nd. Lily had one thing in mind (besides music, of course – music was always in her mind): getting back on the Quidditch team. She spotted Paul the moment she entered the Great Hall. He was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, eating toast and conversing mildly with Albus. She stopped to stand beside them, smiling brightly. Albus smiled; he knew what was coming. He studied Paul's face, anticipating his reaction. Paul looked up. He seemed tired yet pleased to see Lily. She could not stop smiling when she announced:

"I want to get back on the team."

Everything happened in a heartbeat. Paul jumped out of his seat, put his hands on Lily's hips, lifted her up, and made her twirl in the air for at least ten seconds. He was laughing. When he put her down, he looked elated.

"Ah, Lily, that's fantastic. Oh, just fantastic. But don't get any ideas, all right? You'll have to try out."

He discarded his little-boy-on-Christmas-morning look for a smile full of anticipation and enthusiasm. He looked her in the eyes. She smiled mischievously in response and skipped to a free spot further down the table. She could not have hoped for a better reaction.

"Hey, Lily!" She turned around. His cheeks were rosy when he added: "Saturday at dawn, and don't be late!"

"I won't!"

* * *

><p>Lily sat on the bench, clutching her beloved Electrostar tightly. The sun was rising, but it was still cold. She shivered.<p>

"Ooh, you're back!" Lily heard a girly, cheerful voice say, before she felt the thump of someone sitting down beside her. She turned.

"Sarah! Yeah." Lily was surprised to see Sarah act so friendly – she would be taking her spot as a seeker.

"Good thing you are. I was wasted as a seeker."

"You _are_ a wonderful chaser," Lily complimented her honestly. It was nice talking to a girl. The last one she had talked to was Rose.

"Thanks. Merlin! See all those kids turning right around when they see you? It's hilarious! I think they're intimidated!" They laughed, then Sarah asked, "So what _does_ bring you back? I thought you'd left for good, I was rather sad about that."

Lily blinked. _She was sad? Really?_ "I missed it so much. I wasn't the same without it."

"Ah, I know what you mean. I didn't feel like myself playing seeker. I mean, I loved it, it just… wasn't chasing. Why'd you leave in the first place, then?"

Lily looked around, as if searching the landscape for her answer. "Uh… I don't know. I guess I'd lost myself. So… you're in fourth year now, huh? You'll see, it's the best."

They talked during the others' tryouts. Words came easily.

Lily flew perfectly, of course. She got the spot, provided she promised Paul she would wait at least ten minutes to catch the Snitch during games. Sarah got her spot, too: she was almost as talented chasing as Lily was seeking. Hugo got in as well, filling in James's old spot as a beater.

* * *

><p>Sarah quickly became Lily's friend. They ate together. They talked and laughed. They did their homework together. Lily liked her because she was not like Fay, Donna and Jane. She did not spend her waking hours babbling on about inane things. She did not think it was weird of Lily to like Transfiguration and Muggle classical music. She found the violin fascinating rather than excruciating. Lily quickly found out that Sarah was obsessed with dragons, so they often talked about Charlie's work in Romania.<p>

With her work with the symphony, Quidditch practice, and OWL preparation, Lily had no time to sulk. In fact, she rarely found herself without a smile. She giggled easily. Hogwarts was a wonderful place to be.

Lily was advancing quickly with her charming of instruments. Since she mastered all OWL level Transfiguration techniques, Professor Fry let Lily spend the class elsewhere to work on her project.

Quidditch was going very well, too. The team was well put-together: Albus, Sarah and Daniel, a fourth-year boy, played chaser; Paul and Hugo were beaters; Lily seeked and a sixth-year girl named Caroline played keeper. They always had fun during practice; Paul was an almost flawless captain. He did not insist on winning the cup in his last year; after all, Gryffindor had won the last Cup, while Hufflepuff had won the year before. He made his players train well, but not too much. Lily admired his innate leadership. She realised that Paul was a natural leader: charismatic, respectful, and organised, with a strong head on his shoulders.

* * *

><p>In November, evening practices were especially cold. Everyone yearned for warm beverages, but no one ever remembered to bring some over. Today, Lily successfully turned mud puddles into tea. No one dared taste it but her.<p>

"Too bitter! How is it that my magical tea is always over-steeped?"

"That's not actually tea, is it?" Daniel asked, bemused.

"Oh, believe me, it is. Lily's beyond NEWT level in Transfiguration," Albus bragged.

"Sev! Modesty, please!" Lily joked.

"Right, Lily, because you're so _modest_," Hugo joked back.

"I still wouldn't taste it…" Daniel said suspiciously.

"I agree, over-steeped tea is unpleasant," Paul added with a smirk.

"Maybe you could try herbal tea, Lily. Peppermint doesn't taste too bad, no matter how long it's steeped," Sarah suggested.

"Ooh, I love peppermint, try it next time? _Please?_" Caroline pouted.

"Yes! Peppermint! I'll have to ask Professor Fry for the spell!"

"And advice on your over-steeping, too, while you're there," Hugo teased.

They all laughed and got back to the field as Caroline conjured a warm and soft continually blowing wind. It helped, even though they all longed for peppermint tea after the conversation they had just had. The rest of the practice went smoothly and was filled with shivering giggles. Lily felt light; she liked to be part of a team. For a few nights a week, she felt like she had a little more friends. It was nice.

At the end of the practice, Lily hung back to help Paul find a missing bludger.

"How the bloody hell _can_ a bludger go missing, anyway?" Paul asked laughing but visibly annoyed.

"It's crazy, huh? Have you tried summoning it?"

"It doesn't work. Someone's idea of a joke, I suppose."

They laughed loudly at the dodgy sense of humour of the culprit.

"So…" Lily said, "If we can't summon it…"

"Right, I don't know. We can wait. Or, you can go, of course. I'll wait."

"I'll stay if you light us a fire."

"Deal," Paul smirked.

While he lit a blue, transportable fire, Lily transfigured two stadium seats into heated cushions. It was tricky, but it worked.

"Merlin! How did you do this?" Paul let out as he sat on the purple, velvety cushions.

Lily giggled in answer. Paul's voice sounded different in the night when he remarked softly:

"It's nice to see you happy. Laughing. You looked so sad last year."

"Ah, lack of Quidditch will do that to you," she answered in an attempt to make the conversation go in the least awkward possible direction. Her stomach constricted at his proximity, at the sound of his voice, and at the words he was saying.

"Why did you quit? I kept thinking I'd done something wrong, I…"

"That's silly! I'm sorry, but it didn't have anything to do with you," she winked before continuing more seriously. "Uh… well, I quit Quidditch because I was bored, and I was bored because I was sad, and then later I was sad because I didn't play Quidditch, I don't know, it was weird."

Paul hummed quietly. His voice was low when he said, "Dad was like that when Mum died. He quit his job, everything. He had to go to St. Mungo's in the end."

Lily was surprised. She had never heard his voice break this way, his eyes search the darkness this way. She whispered: "How old were you?"

"Ten."

She wanted to ask him a million questions. 'Why did he go to St. Mungo's? What happened? Who did you live with? Are you okay now? Do you miss your mum?'

"But he's fine now. He's happy. Much like you, I daresay."

"You're right," Lily grinned. "It's like I was asleep for so long and I'm finally waking up."

The bludger burst in the stadium as if on cue. Lily acted on instinct as she transfigured it into a ball of yarn. Paul whistled.

"Say, I wonder how I'll explain _that one._"

Lily giggled. She liked it when he teased her. "I'll change it back, silly!" She liked the task of putting the bludger back in its case and transfiguring it back to its original form. It took her mind off of Paul: his words still echoing in the corners of her brain, his eyes everywhere she looked, and his overwhelming presence. _Everything he was_.

She turned to face him because it would have been childish to never do so. He wore a shy smile. He bit his lip. He smiled again. The next thing Lily saw before she closed her eyes was the flutter of his own eyelashes as they closed down on his round blue eyes. His mouth crashed upon hers. It _crashed_, yes, because it was fully unexpected. It _brushed_, too, because it was asking a question. Lily's mouth answered back with certainty, eagerness and innocence. They sighed. Kissed. Gasped. Kissed. There was a rhythm, and when there was none Lily relished in the arrhythmia; it was a rhapsody, then a waltz, for a while it was a gavotte, and it finally was the aftermath of a symphony: the second movement in which all is soft and recovering (with the inevitable oboe solo – the yearning, the melancholy, the beauty). Paul's mouth tasted of sunshine and laughter; his being smelled of pumpkin and broom twigs; his skin felt like silk and sandpaper.

Their mouths parted with a single, synchronised sigh. The sigh was made of unicorn horn powder and phoenix tears, of grass blades and dewdrops, of a violin's neck and a broom's handle. Its beauty tickled the two of them so perfectly, so unexpectedly that they both let out a small, breathless giggle.

At the same time, Lily and Paul had the same thought: it was the most beautiful giggle they had ever heard.

* * *

><p>The Muggles had it right when they said 'Time flies when you're having fun.' Lily's OWL year flew past her in a blur of activity and laughter. She worked on her symphony and successfully charmed all the woodwinds and most of the brass. She picked her NEWT subjects: Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology and Care of the Magical Creatures would prepare her for her future career as a Transfiguration expert (although some of them she had taken out of fun more than out of necessity). The Gryffindors won the Quidditch Cup and the team celebrated for more hours than they could count.<p>

Lily's last exam was Transfiguration. She finished early and decided to lounge in the sun for a while before dinner. Her thoughts drifted towards Paul. She loved him. She loved knowing every part of him. She knew how to tell if he was having a bad day. She knew how to cheer him up when he did. She knew how he liked his pumpkin juice (with nutmeg). She knew how he felt about what had happened to his parents when he was ten. She knew he was as passionate about Magical Law as he was about Quidditch. There were things she knew about him that no one else did. Similarly, she let him know things about her she had never told anyone. He understood her. He thought she was beautiful and brilliant, not weird. He knew why she loved classical music so much. He knew about Kate. He knew about everyone else (even Charlie). He knew why she called her brothers 'J' and 'Sev,' and why they called her 'Liszt' and 'Lu.' He knew just how and when she liked her Earl Grey.

They knew each other's heart, soul and mind, almost from the inside out.

They knew more, too: knew how the other liked to kiss in different occasions, knew where touching tickled and where it aroused. They knew the other's palm like their own. They could recognize each other's hair solely by touch.

One thing bothered Lily: when it came to Paul's body, she did not know everything. There were missing pieces. She had never fully seen him. She did not know how every part of him felt. She could not predict how his body would respond to certain touches, stimuli and situations. It did more than bother her: it filled her with a sense of urgency, of need, and of want. The hours she had at Hogwarts with Paul were counted. She swiftly got up, walked to the castle, and sneaked into Albus's dormitory. There was something she very much needed in his bedside drawer.

* * *

><p>She sat between Sarah and Paul at dinner that day. The elated feeling of the end of exams filled their conversation. Paul was especially happy to be done with his NEWTs. Sarah was glad to be done with all her pre-OWL exams, and she quickly left to celebrate with fourth-year Ravenclaws.<p>

Lily and Paul found themselves spending the night in the grounds; the day had been sunny and hot, and its warmth lingered on. The watched the sun set over the Great Lake as they talked about anything – anything but what would happen when they left Hogwarts. Lily knew that there was little chance she would see him during the summer holidays, as he would be staying with his family in the North of Scotland before moving to London for his Magical Law studies. But she refused to think about this as she planted a deep kiss on his lips. They shared a look. There was a question in his eyes, and she answered by taking his hand and guiding him to the back of the very last greenhouse. They were perfectly concealed from anyone inside or outside the castle.

Lily put her arms around Paul's neck and pulled him forward softly but eagerly. Their lips met in a way they had not before: in a way that said, 'I want you'. Everything seemed to be going very fast, yet very slowly. Lily tugged his robes with inexperienced hands. He pulled away slightly, looking startled. He seemed flustered as he panted:

"I'm sorry Lily I… I didn't think we'd… I've just… I haven't got…"

"I've got it covered," Lily breathed out as she took her brother's condoms from her pocket and put them into his. She glanced at him with a questioning smile, wanting to make sure it was okay, all of it. He muttered a few concealment spells, bent down, and kissed her.

They explored each other tenderly, with an eagerness to please the other and to learn everything. Lily discovered where her touches had a maximum effect on him as well as where _his_ touches had a maximum effect on _her_. There were moans, gasps, sighs, groans, giggles and small cries. And then…

Lily's brain was incoherence. It was pumpkin, _From the New World_'s First Movement, laughter, tickles, moans and groans, a violin concerto, mud puddles and peppermint tea, the Snitch, a bludger… and blank, _oh_, it was blank. The blank felt like the moments of silence between movements of a Symphony, when the audience is unsure whether to clap or not (she loved those moments). She giggled. Paul did the same. They sighed. They were both out of breath as they cuddled against each other and fell asleep on the ground. They were wrapped by the scent of wet earth. The blades of grass tickled their skin. _Oh_, wonderful was an understatement.

* * *

><p>The sunrise tickled Lily's eyelids forcefully. She blinked. Why was the sun so bright? Why was her right side so itchy? Why did she feel someone's skin against her own?<p>

It took less than a second for everything to click back into place. When it did, she jumped up. They were lucky they had not been discovered, but even with Paul's concealment charms, their luck would likely not last very long. She nudged his shoulder and put her robes on at the same time: a feat of adrenaline. He groaned:

"What?"

"Get up, fast! And wait a few minutes to get in the castle after I've left, the last thing we want is to be caught out together. Do you have any idea how many rules we've broken…?" Lily whispered so quickly she doubted he understood a thing.

"Yeah, okay, I'll wait five minutes." He looked sleepy and grass blades were imprinted on his left side. She smiled. "Hey Lily," he said before she left the circle he had cast. He smiled back. "I love you."

She looked him in the eyes. His bright blue eyes, so round, so full of happiness. She loved him so much it hurt. She spoke with as much tenderness as she could muster: "Me too, Paul. I love you."

She could not linger. She sprinted off to the castle and took the less conspicuous route to Gryffindor tower. A sigh left her when she got through the Fat Lady's portrait. She jumped in the shower before Fay, Donna and Jane even realised she was in the dormitory.

Every drop of water that fell on Lily's skin reminded her of his kisses, his touches. She had finally put together the pieces of the glorious puzzle of Paul Haver. She could never have thought that she could love him more than before, but she did. She knew that she would love him more every day. Lily allowed herself to look towards the future. She would see him any time she could. It would be tricky in July, with him in Scotland and her in Devon. At the end of August, she might get to spend a day or two with him in Diagon Alley. She would probably be able to see him on September 1st, before boarding the Hogwarts Express.

At this point, Lily's enthusiasm disappeared. The thought of kissing Paul goodbye on Platform 9 ¾ annoyed her. She could imagine the scene very clearly.

He would kiss her gently, then more eagerly. Her arousal and desire for more would be cut short by the whistle. They would share a couple of meaningless words, and she would get one last look of him before finding Sarah's compartment. She would spend the first few months in a state of smitten yearning, of mindless pining. She would be tied-down, unable to find real happiness. After a while, she would go mad from the longing. She would start resenting him for making her go crazy. She would accumulate frustration, deep in her heart. When she would see him again, it would not be the same. She would lash out, explode. She would not love him as much as she did now. Their love would be different; it would become half-baked, mediocre. How could Lily survive a half-baked romance?

'It'll either be raw or fully burnt,' she thought fiercely as the water from the shower turned cold.

If Lily could not be with Paul, she would be free. The middle ground would hurt too much. She knew it would. Freedom, on the other hand, would not hurt. It would be lonely, but bearably so. She would have Sarah. She would have Neville, Professor Fry and Professor Johnson. She would have Molly, Lorcan and Lysander, who would enter Hogwarts in September. She would have wonderful family she could write to anytime she liked. She would have music. She would have her violin and _From the New World_. She would have Quidditch. She would have her team and her Electrostar. She would be heartbroken, but she would be okay. She had mended her heart before; she could do it again if she had to.

Lily was strong. Her heart breaking would not keep her from finding happiness. And she _would not, would never_ let the precious, wonderful thing she shared with Paul become anything near half-baked. There was only one thing to do for it: break things off with Paul before they broke themselves.

* * *

><p>"Wait, what – no. Lily, what – what do you mean?"<p>

They were at the Hogsmeade train station, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express (him, for the last time). There was an edge of panic in Paul's voice. Lily did not, could not let herself be unsettled by it. She bit back the 'Did I stutter?' she very much felt like saying. She wished she would not hurt Paul; she loved him too much.

"You know what I mean, Paul. I'm sorry. We need this."

"So what, you're having sex with me and you just run off and decide you don't bloody want me anymore?"

He was too hurt to sound thoroughly angry, and that was what made Lily wince. She bit her lip. It _did_ sound very bad when he put it like that. A wave of regret filled her. She tried to blink back her tears, but there were too many of them.

"I wish I hadn't done it. Any of it. I just can't – I can't –" She could not tell him her reasons again; she would fall in a sobbing frenzy, unable to speak. "I've just told you! I'm sorry, Paul, I love –"

"Don't," he cut before disappearing from her sight.

Lily spent the rest of day in a small train compartment, crying on Sarah's shoulder.


	12. Above the Water

XII. Above the Water

Lily's heart was broken, but she was fine. At least, that was what she told herself. It would be a bit hazardous to say that she was happy, but she managed to keep her head above the water. She managed to laugh, smile, and act as though everything was normal. Most of the time, she even managed to _feel_ as though everything was normal, if she ignored the faint aching of loneliness in her bones. Of course, there were nights when she ended up alone and emotional, when she felt so lonely and incomplete that she cried herself to sleep. As the summer and the start of her sixth year at Hogwarts passed, these nights became scarcer and scarcer.

Lily had been named Quidditch Captain, much to her pleasure. She knew she did not have Paul's natural leadership abilities (although she refrained from thinking about it – _him_ – too much). However, she tried to put everyone's strengths to work, and it had resulted in straight winnings so far. She worked hard to put everyone at ease and to make sure her players all got along. After all, she had experienced first-hand the difference a few friends could make in one's life. Paul and Albus had been replaced by a large seventh-year boy and a small, shy, yet remarkably quick second-year girl, respectively.

Molly, Lily's young cousin, had finally entered Hogwarts and had been sorted in Ravenclaw. The Weasleys had been mildly surprised by the news: she was the first in the family to not be sorted in Gryffindor, but her mother was a Ravenclaw, after all. Lorcan and Lysander, Luna's twins, had been sorted in Ravenclaw as well. Lily seldom spoke to the three first-years, to her disappointment. She could not get a hold of them, which did not surprise her much, as she was quite busy herself. She spoke to Hugo more often, but mostly at Quidditch practice. He was popular to what Lily considered a ridiculous extent – she rarely saw him surrounded by less than five people, and he dominated most conversations in which he was involved. She loved him, but he was not the kind of cousin she could talk to her problems about.

Sarah was the only student whom Lily could really talk to. In fact, Lily believed she was her only friend. She held on to her tightly. She was so alone already, having pushed Paul away. If she lost Sarah and had to go back to complete loneliness, she was not sure she would be capable to manage.

What Lily was not able to realise was that the memory of Kate still haunted her. It made her irrationally afraid to lose the only friend she had. Lily had a deep-seated, unconscious fear that what happened to Kate would also happen to Sarah, simply because she was her friend. It did not make sense, but then again, fear never made sense.

Of course, there would always be her professors, ever so helpful. Neville frequently invited Lily over for tea. She found it pleasant, but it was not like having a girl friend with whom she could talk about everything. She also spent a lot of time with Professor Fry to work on her project. In fact, they had finished charming the brass in September and the percussion in November. Lily sometimes visited Professor Johnson for tea. The visits were always fun, if not slightly awkward (after all, she had once seen him hiding behind a sheet).

Lily wrote to Charlie, Albus, James, and her parents. She loved getting letters; for the moment it took her to read them, it was as though her family was with her and she felt a little less alone. James was still in Tibet, but he was contemplating an offer of transfer to Bali in January. Albus was studying advanced Arithmancy in London for a year as a preparation for Magical Accounting studies. He shared a flat with Paul, but he never wrote about him.

Lily was nearly finished with the NEWT Transfiguration curriculum, and she loved her other classes. They were challenging. It kept her mind free of unhappy thoughts. Lily supposed that keeping her mind occupied by things she liked was part of the key to happiness. Violin, Quidditch, and Sarah were the other parts of the key – Lily held on to all parts tightly.

It was a habit of Lily and Sarah's to spend nights studying in empty classrooms rather than at the library or the Common Room. Lily was free to work on the Symphony or to play the violin when she needed to think, whereas Sarah found she worked better with music. One Sunday night in December, not long before the Christmas holiday, they settled in the small Muggle Studies classroom near the Gryffindor tower. Lily was charming her own violin to play the first violin part, Second Movement. It was a soft and wistful part, and for a strange reason, it reminded her of Kate.

"What is it?" Sarah asked. "You look sad."

"What? Oh, it's nothing."

Sarah's silence meant only one thing: she waited for Lily to continue. Lily spoke reluctantly, dismissively, hoping to skim over the subject.

"It's just… It makes me think of… of my childhood friend. Her name was Kate."

"Was?"

"She, um… she died," Lily was staring at her bow as she talked, but she felt Sarah's gaze on her. She did not know why she found the situation so awkward. It might have been because she was comparing Sarah's interrogations with Paul's.

"What was she like?"

Lily did not like the turn of the conversation at all, but she figured it might be good to tell someone about Kate. Again. Now that Paul was gone from her life and that she knew she had never gotten over Kate's death… She took a deep breath and kept her voice monotonous and steady:

"She was a Muggle. She lived on a farm. She… she played the cello, it's like a big violin. So did her dad. So did I, actually, before. She… well, she actually gave me this violin. She was talented, and funny, and… well, I went to Hogwarts. And she went to boarding school. And she said that since we wouldn't see each other, we couldn't be best friends anymore. And then she got sick, and, uh, she died."

An awkward silence hung in the air, stretching for a while. Lily dared not look at Sarah, but she guessed that her friend did not really know what to say in response. Lily could not think of a way to change the subject without being obvious, or to speak without beginning to sob. Instead, she lifted her gaze to meet her friend's.

Sarah looked at her strangely. Lily could not identify the emotion in her eyes and face. In fact, she did not have much time to think before her friend closed her eyes and bent down towards her.

Lily knew what was coming the second Sarah closed her eyes. She had done plenty of that with Paul last year. Panic rose within her, filling her up. Sarah was her _friend_. Her only friend, actually. They were not supposed to kiss. Lily did not love her this way. Sarah was not supposed to love her this way. This, this _kiss_ that was about to happen, _was not_ supposed to happen. Lily felt like hyperventilating, or running away, or screaming at the top of her lungs, or bursting in tears, or… She felt like doing so many things at once that she froze. She let herself be kissed. And, because what was done was done, she reciprocated. She reciprocated because she did not want to hurt Sarah. She did not want to push away her only friend. She clung to her desperately. In Lily's panic-filled, mad mind, reciprocating was the best thing to do.

Their lips, their hands, and their tongues now moved in synch, and Lily felt like she was drowning. She felt like all the efforts she had made since June to keep her head above the water were turned to dust. The key to happiness she had put together earlier this year was lost in the water, irretrievable. All her old issues came back: she was vulnerable, weak, lonely, confused, and desperate for affection. She fell into oblivion; except this was not the kind of oblivion she had fallen into with Paul (a sunny, merciful, tickling oblivion). It was the dark, cold and empty oblivion she had pulled herself out of the summer before last.

By the time Lily realised that it was a mistake to pretend she loved kissing her best friend, it was too late. They were in a full embrace, kissing, gasping, and meddling with their tongues. Guilt slowly replaced panic in her mind. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

* * *

><p>The week following the incident had been the last week before the Christmas holiday, which Lily was particularly thankful for. She had not yet had the heart to tell Sarah she did not love her that way (could never love her that way, could never love any girl that way). She had not yet had the heart to stop passionately snogging her friend whenever they were alone. Fortunately for Lily, Sarah did not feel the need to talk out the new twist in their relationship. All Lily had to do to keep up her charade was to send flirty looks in her friend's direction every now and then, to smile enigmatically, and to indulge Sarah with kisses and small touches. She had been graced with exceptional acting talents, and she put them to use whenever Sarah was around.<p>

Meddling with her friend's feelings broke Lily's heart, but she did not know what else she could do. She had a feeling that pretending was far worse than getting the truth out right away, but she had no idea what to say. How do you phrase to your best friend, 'Oh, by the way, I'm straight, and I was just pretending to love you back because I'm still madly in love with my ex and I shouldn't have left him but hey, I did, so now I'm lonely and a bloody emotional wreck, but I usually manage to hold myself together, well except when you kissed me, so yeah, sorry,' gently? And even if Lily found the way to phrase such thoughts properly, they did not even cover half of what she felt.

'I've been lying to myself,' Lily thought once, in her bed, unable to sleep. 'I was sad, but I was just pretending not to be. Like it would make it go away, but it didn't. I'm still the same old bloody wreck. I'm not over Kate. I'm not over _him_. Merlin! I can't even _think_ his name. And now I've just acted like a… like – ugh! I'll break her heart, she'll hate me, she'll be so sad…' The rest of her thoughts fell into sorrowful incoherence as she silently wept and waited for sleep to claim her.

The Christmas holiday gave Lily plenty to look forward to, at least. 'Not that I deserve anything to look forward to,' she thought bitterly. She would spend Christmas in Romania to keep Charlie company: he was on health-check duty for the holidays. She would return to England in time for New Year's Eve, when she had a dinner planned with her parents, her brothers, Luna, Rolf, Lorcan and Lysander. Lily was excited about catching up with so many of the ones she loved. The holiday would give her a small break from her problems, here at Hogwarts.


	13. Christmas

XIII. Fairies

Charlie lived in a small cabin on the outskirts of a wizard village, not too far from the Dragon Reservation. The cabin was similar to Professor Johnson's, but it was bigger. It held separate rooms. On the ground floor, there was a living room, a powder bathroom, and a kitchen, while two bedrooms and a full bathroom stood on the first floor.

The inside of the home reminded Lily of Shell Cottage, but with a distinct woodsy feel. The place was open; a table lay on the right and the kitchen was just behind it. On the left, a stone fireplace lighted the living room. There were patchwork quilts (no doubt Mrs. Weasley's) on the couch and a vast array of books on the shelves, mostly about dragon-keeping, but others more recreational. The place was a bit messy, in an everyday sort of way. Lily could tell Charlie had not gone on a cleaning spree before she arrived, and she was glad. Beside the kitchen, behind the living room, they climbed the straight staircase. Lily noticed that the staircase wall was empty. Upstairs, she put her bags in the guest bedroom: a very small room with a single bed and a view of the backyard.

The entire home smelled of milky-honey and Earl Gray, just like Charlie. Lily liked that smell. It was safe. Feeling safe and comfortable came as a relief to her after her stressful last week at Hogwarts.

Minutes later, they sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea. Lily looked down and slid her fingers on the tabletop: the table was made of an old, beaten-down wood. She liked it.

"So… what's wrong?"

Lily's head shot up as she looked at her uncle, who was sitting in front of her. She squinted and smiled. "Why do you think there's something wrong?"

He gave her a condescending look. "Oh, Lily, don't play that game with me. You look like you've had no more than twenty hours of sleep in the last week, you're jumpy, you tend to look away…"

He looked at her, encouraging her to speak. She sighed and looked back at the tabletop.

"Uncle Charlie, I messed up. Awfully so," she said softly before she put her face in her hands. The guilt was slowly killing her. She wanted to find a word, a single word to use to make Charlie understand just how horrible she was, but she doubted such a word existed in the 'tasteful' vocabulary range. Lily felt her uncle's hand rest on her shoulder: big, firm, and warm. He waited for her to continue.

"I… ugh, I don't even… Okay," she decided to get it out fast. She put her hands back on the table and looked at her uncle. She was brave enough to say this. "You know Sarah?"

"The chaser? The one who loves dragons, your friend?"

"Yeah. Well. You know how many friends I have. And it's not that I don't like having friends, it just… always turns up this way. But Sarah, she's amazing. She gets me, and we like each other, and – and… But you know, ever since what happened with… with Kate, I'm so scared. Like if – like I'm so scared of losing Sarah, because I've lost Paul and it's my fault, and I don't want to lose Sarah too. I hate being alone, it sucks –"

Lily's voice broke and a few tears slid down her cheeks. Charlie's hand rubbed circles on her upper arm. He could see that she was just torturing herself by telling him petty details he had already deduced. He murmured, "I know, Lily, just get it out, okay? It'll be fine."

She sniffed and looked up again. She could do this. Her voice was breathy and shaky as she finished her tale:

"She kissed me. And I don't like her this way, I don't love her or any girl this way. I can't. But I was upset and it seemed like the right thing to do at the time to just… kiss her back. And we've been… snogging ever since."

Charlie's expression was blank. She started weeping again as she continued:

"But I still love Paul, I'm so stupid, I'm such a – ugh! I've hurt her, I'm such an awful person –"

"Shh…" Charlie softly cut her. She had done enough self-loathing for the night. He got around the table and hugged her. He held her until her breathing pattern was back to normal, at which point he sat next to her.

"Lily, what happened to Kate, it's not your fault. I want you to know that, okay? Things like that are not linked to what we do."

Lily nodded, knowing that her uncle had seen through her. He had figured out what she herself had not: the source of her guilt was threefold: Kate, Paul, Sarah.

"And as for Paul… we'll see what happens there, shan't we?" He risked a smile. There was not much more he could say about him. "And Sarah… well, Lily, I reckon she knew exactly what she was doing."

Lily jumped at the unexpected words. "What?"

"Lily, she can't _not know_ you still love Paul. It's written all over your face, no matter how hard you try to hide it. She might not understand all the intricacies of your feelings, and what led you to reciprocate the kiss, but she must know how you feel about him." He paused. Lily was confused. "I'd say apologise and hope for the best."

"And what about the worst?" Lily's voice was weak; she was scared.

"Do you plan on keeping up this charade eternally?"

Lily's eyes filled with tears again. She felt ambushed by her own actions, stuck in a downward spiral. Charlie continued gently:

"It might be hard at first, but I'm sure she'll come around." He was not _sure_, Lily knew he was not. How could he be sure? "You're not alone, okay? Neville, Viola, and Ben, they love you, you know. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Ah yeah?"

It was defiance: Lily did not believe him. She knew what she had done was unforgiveable. How could he feed her such lies? She was ready to bet he did not know anyone who had made mistakes half as bad as the ones she had made.

He pursed his lips and sighed. "Yeah. We're human. We hurt each other. It's what we do."

There was a strange ring to his voice.

* * *

><p>Lily spent the next few days doing homework and reviewing the second violin part of the Symphony while her uncle was at the Reservation. On the first morning, she had asked him if she could keep him company, but he had replied:<p>

"On the 26th, okay? I'll be visiting the Common Welsh Green. Your grandmother would skin me if she found out I took you to see anything other than our least dangerous dragon. You know how she is!"

Lily had not argued. She was curious about dragons, but she was more curious about the second violin part. She spent hours playing it as 'preparation'. She loved second violin parts; they were intriguing, like enigmas. The melody was always hidden somewhere in them, but toned down and transformed. When she played the parts, she felt like a musical detective. It was fun and it took her mind off unpleasant thoughts.

On the 24th, Lily stopped working in favour of preparing a surprise for her uncle. She magically frosted the windowpanes to give the impression of a snowy Christmas. She captured fairies and hung them in the tree, as she had learned to do in last month's Care of the Magical Creatures lessons. She hung a few additional decorations. Then, she walked to the village, where she bought food. Later, she transfigured the aliments into actual meals – her food Transfiguration abilities had much improved since last year's tea and mud puddles experiments. Without magic, Lily was a horrible cook, but with magic, she was hard to beat. Finally, she charmed her violin to play Christmas carols.

It might be a lonely Christmas, but it would be perfectly pleasant.

* * *

><p>Their Christmas Eve dinner had been delicious. They had both been filled with holiday cheer. Lily and Charlie alike burst in joyful laughter more often than they had in a long time. Christmas morning, too, had been a lot of fun. Charlie had given Lily a new pair of dragon-hide gloves – they were made from Opaleye hide and were especially rare and beautiful, with their pearly white appearance. She had been over the moon, as her current gloves (hand-me-downs from Teddy) were practically falling apart. Actually, she thought it might not be a coincidental gift. No doubt Professor Johnson had hinted something about it.<p>

Lily and her uncle spent Christmas night quietly. They had stopped playing wizard chest hours ago. They sat in the living room, the only sound in their ears being the quiet burning of the logs in the chimney. Charlie was reading a wizard historical novel set in the time of Grindelwald's rise to power. Lily was gazing at the pages of a post-NEWT level Transfiguration textbook that Professor Fry had lent her. She yawned. It was getting late.

Their comfortable silence was broken by the faint popping sound of an Apparition. Both Lily's and Charlie's heads flicked up immediately. The sound was closely followed by the sound of a body falling to the ground and a breathless grunt. Charlie jumped to his feet, got his wand, and ran to the door. Something in his gait told Lily that he already half-knew what was waiting for him on the other side of his front door. She still sat on her uncle's couch, her book in her hands, not feeling fearful in the slightest. She closed her mouth when she realised that she had been gaping, but otherwise she did not move. Charlie opened the door and ran out.

"Ben? Ben, are you okay?"

His voice was low and concerned, but not urgent. Lily wondered if she should leave. She heard a few more shapeless grunts (Professor Johnson's).

"You're drunk," her uncle sighed, resigned. There were a few seconds of silence before he continued, this time angrier than she had ever heard him: "You _Apparated drunk?_ Are you _out of your mind?"_

Lily heard another couple of grunted words before she saw her uncle help her teacher into the cabin and on a kitchen chair. His pursed lips and his meaningful look were Charlie's wordless apology for her, and she understood the underlying message: 'I'm sorry, Lily. I think you should go up.' She quietly climbed the stairs, sat on her bed, and picked up her violin. She found herself unable to play; the conversation downstairs sounded so clear to her, even though the voices were not loud.

"Ben… what's this about?"

"The bloody family, what else?" Ben slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.

Charlie had once told Lily that he did not understand why Professor Johnson would even want to keep in touch with his family. Now that she thought about it, Lily realised that Angelina always spent holidays at the Burrow and never really talked about her family. She supposed the Johnsons did not get along very well.

Lily heard the sound of a mug hit the table, then, "Here, drink this. You need to sober up."

She could practically hear him gulp down his drink – probably tea. Two silent minutes passed by before her teacher spoke again, still slurring, but sounding a bit more lucid:

"They said… they said they'd heard you visit me often. Well, I don't know where they heard that 'cause if you _do_ visit often, then I don't know 'bout it. They said – bloody idiots – they said if we're not more careful, people might start to talk." His voice was high-pitched and ugly when he related what his family had said: "They said, 'ugly rumours, Ben' and 'be careful, Ben' and 'Ben, you don't want people thinking you're filthy'. Disgusting, wrong, dirty, immoral, that's what they said."

Charlie's voice was impassive. "So."

Ben's voice, in contrast, sounded angrier and more distressed by the minute. "So, this is what we have, Charlie! And I know you don't want them to know –"

"We agreed –"

"This is _us!_ This is what they think of _us!_ Filthy, wrong! _Us!_" He choked out the last word.

Charlie remained unshakeably calm. "So. You downed your brother's Ogden's and you Apparated here."

There was a delay before the teacher's soft response came. "You're angry."

"Angry? No, of course not. I'm not angry that you acted like an immature teenager. Why should I expect any better when you're with your family?" There was an underlying fierceness in Charlie's otherwise unflinching tone. "Oh, I'm definitely not angry that you Apparated drunk. What's the worst that could've happened? You die? Why would I be angry about that?"

"Ah… right. Right, yeah. I see it now. You're worried I was obvious. You're worried they'll _know_," Professor Johnson sounded less drunk and more manic with every word he spoke.

"Don't be ridic-"

"No, don't pretend. _What would happen then_, huh?"

"Ben, please."

"Ah, but that's all you have to say. 'Ben, please.' I'll tell you what would happen. It wouldn't change a bloody thing for you. The dragon-keepers here, they all know anyway. Oh, but your family? Well, that's another story, now. Me? Ah, but we both know what I'd do, even if you don't understand it."

Charlie sounded confused and taken aback as he muttered, "I don't know what you…"

The teacher's voice was loud and aggressive now, but it had an air of sadness rather than anger. "_I don't care!_ I don't care, Charlie, I'd go to the ends of the world for you, I'd quit my job for you, I'd…"

"But you love that job!"

"I do! And that's the bloody _thing_, Charlie, that's what you'll never understand. I love you more than my job! _I love you more than my bloody job!_ And I know you'll never feel the same, but _for Merlin's sake_ just get that piece of information in your brain, will you?"

Lily started playing loudly the moment she thought she heard sobs.

* * *

><p>'So they made up then,' was the first coherent thought to go through Lily's mind on December 26th. She had made her way downstairs rather groggily and found herself looking at her uncle and her professor kissing over a bacon-filled frying pan.<p>

"You'll want to stop cooking the bacon soon or it'll be overcooked," she slurred sleepily, not hiding her smirk.

The two men turned to face her. Charlie smiled and wished her good morning before hurrying off to put the bacon in a plate. Professor Johnson smiled shyly, a blush barely perceptible on his dark skin. He bit his lip.

"Ah, uh… I'm sorry about last night, Lily. I…" he chuckled uneasily. "I'm really sorry. Surely this wasn't the perfect Christmas night you had in mind. Really, I'm… I'm embarrassed."

Lily giggled his worries away. "It's fine, really!"

"So at least _you_ paid attention in class, huh? You did a wonderful job with the fairies."

The compliment made her grin widely. "Thanks."

The two sat down while Charlie brought bacon, toast, jam and tea on the table.

"So, Lily, ready for your big day on the reserve?" he asked playfully.

Her face lit up. She had completely forgotten about spending the day with her uncle at work. "Oh my! Yes!"

Professor Johnson lifted his eyebrows, interested. "Really? Who's on the schedule today?"

"No dragon in particular, I just go on rounds during the holidays. We're going to see the Welsh Greens."

"Greens? I thought you two would want to go for Short-Snouts or Opaleyes…"

Lily giggled. "We _would_, yeah, but we also know better than to risk my grandmother hearing about it! Greens will be nice too, though. I bet they're beautiful."

"They are," Professor Johnson said fondly, yet wistfully and (could it be?) just a tiny bit bitterly as he smiled at Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie sighed affectionately before grinning at Lily. "Indeed they are!"

**A/N: Only two more chapters and an epilogue left! (And possibly, eventually, a sequel.)**

**Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated!**


	14. Auld Lang Syne

XIV. Auld Lang Syne

**A/N: There is a bit of Luna in this chapter! I apologise if she seems out of character; I did my best writing her, but she was tricky.**

**Reviews are more than welcome.**

Lily returned home on the 28th of December in the morning. It left her plenty of time to catch up with her younger brother before James arrived in the country on New Year's Eve.

Albus and her were in the living room, one afternoon, while their parents were out buying supplies for the celebrations. Albus lay on his front on the carpet, mindlessly picking out loose strands. Lily lay on her back on the couch, her legs propped up against the seatback. Neither of them had much energy left – they had spent the morning cleaning up the house.

"I'm really loving Arithmancy," Albus said matter-of-factly.

"Hm," Lily replied, knowing that her brother would interpret the sound well. She could practically hear him smile in response.

"And London, too. But I love Arithmancy more."

They fell silent. Both appreciated the other's company, but did not really know what to say. Rather, they did not really feel the need to say anything. It was a comfortable kind of silence.

"I'm almost done with the symphony," Lily finally shared.

"That's nice. And what about the captainship?"

He still looked at the carpet; she still looked at the ceiling.

"Oh, it's fun. It's like having friends."

"They _are_ your friends, Lu. And what about Sarah?"

It took a while for Lily to answer. She wondered what she should say. Should she correct Albus and point out that her players did not want her as a friend? Should she tell him about what she did to Sarah? Should she brush the whole thing off?

"Right. Uh, no, Sev. They're not my friends, and neither is Sarah, not anymore, not ever."

"What do you mean, 'she's not your friend'?"

Lily sighed. Once again, it took her a few moments to decide on what to say. Should she tell him all about it? Should she go for clichés he could read through? Should she skip over the details? (It would be rude to 'out' Sarah behind her back.)

"Oh, you know me, the most socially adept person alive." Sarcasm. Self-deprecation. Not bad.

Albus propped himself up on one of his elbows, half-turning towards his sister. She could not see him or the look of concern on his face, but she could imagine him well enough. She refused to look. She refused to add anything more. After a minute or two, he sighed and let himself fall back on the carpet. He plucked a few more strands before he uttered a barely audible question:

"D'you miss him?"

A whisper was all Lily could muster. "Yes."

"He… uh." Albus cleared his throat. "He misses you too. I think. He… he hides it well. He probably thinks I'm buying his whole happy-guy act."

Lily knew there was something her brother was not telling her. He was exceptionally perceptive; surely he could _perceive_ her _perception_ of his deception? "Sev…"

Albus spoke louder and more confidently as he specified his previous thought. "He tries _much too hard_ to forget you, is what I meant."

"Oh." It was an interesting new piece of information, although Lily did not know how to use it. She _did_ know, however, that discussing her love life with her brother was not the best of ideas.

"So, James'll be here soon," she stated in hope of changing the course of the conversation.

"Yeah. Brace yourself for a little storm, will you? Dad wants him to take a job in Britain. Surely you know James wants to take the offer for Bali?"

"Yeah. Oh. Why would Dad do that, though? James will just lash out and leave."

"He wants to be closer to him. They haven't been on the best of terms. I think Dad wants to change that. Lovely method he chose, huh?"

Albus was being sarcastic. It would be an awful method. "Merlin. Have you talked to Dad about it?"

"Have done. Didn't work, obviously. He wants to have a better relationship with James."

"Wow. What does Mum have to say about it?"

"She's on my side, of course. She's not completely delusional. But Dad won't hear of it. You know how stubborn he can be."

They chuckled nervously, humourlessly before once more changing their conversation subject.

* * *

><p>Lily looked around the dinner table fondly. There were her father and older brother, sitting side by side (they had not talked yet). There was her mother conversing affectionately with Luna. There was Rolf smiling good-naturedly, discussing Arithmancy with Albus (something with equation patterns in nature, it seemed). There were Lorcan and Lysander, off in their own world. They looked almost perfectly alike, except Lily could tell that Lorcan's 'own world' was darker and more realistic than Lysander's. A shadow crossed his eyes from time to time, and Lily felt a rush of affection for the boy. He was like her, but more lost...<p>

* * *

><p>Lily was glad to have a moment alone with Luna at the end of the night. She had always been a comfort to her. They had gone for a walk along the country road. It was cold, but Luna had cast a warming charm on them both. They talked about odd creatures for a while. Lily liked the woman's company, for she felt akin to her. A conversation with Luna was unlike a conversation with any other wizard, witch, or Muggle.<p>

"So you're sad again. That's rather unfortunate," Luna remarked with no change of tone whatsoever.

Lily blinked. Ten seconds ago, they had been discussing Blibbering Humdingers.

"Well, no," the naturalist continued, "I suppose you're not really. But you ought to be. You need to allow yourself to be sad before you can be happy, you know. Or else you'll never deal with things," she finished in her airily cheerful voice.

"I wish it wasn't so," Lily sighed in response. "But I understand."

They had reached the narrow path leading to the Potters' cottage front door. Luna got a large, flat, and square object out of her tiny, colourful, and quirky wallet.

"Here, it's your Christmas present. It's one of my favourite albums; a bit old, and Muggle, but very well orchestrated. Well written too. You'll like it, I think. It might help you deal. Pay close attention to the words of the thirteenth song especially, 'Guilty'. The singer writes her own songs, I quite like her. She made other albums, but I thought you'd identify with this one best."

"Thank you," Lily murmured as she looked down at the album. A young woman's head rested on some tacky old fabric, her neck at an odd angle, next to an inscription in white letters: 'Marina & the Diamonds – The Family Jewels'.

"Oh, I know the cover art isn't very pretty, but her music is, you'll see," Luna said with wide eyes and a distant smile.

At this point, they reached the doorstep. They could hear angry shouts clearly.

"It seems James finally told Harry what he's been willing to say all evening. Well, I'd better tell Ginny we're leaving; we wouldn't want to stand in the way of a Bat-Bogey Hex," Luna said quite cheerfully.

Moments later, the Scamanders were gone. Ginny, Albus and Lily sat at the kitchen table, listening to the voices in the nearby room.

"You don't understand! Your name's Harry, not 'Super-awesome-person-one-can-never-be-like'!"

"Hm, yeah, that really made my time at Hogwarts much easier. I was famous for something I couldn't remember doing and chased down by the most powerful dark wizard of all time, but never mind _that!_ _Thank Merlin_ my dead parents had the sense to name me 'Harry'!" Their father had outdone himself in matters of sarcasm.

Lily whispered to Albus, "I take it they're not fighting about Bali anymore?"

"Bali? That argument lasted about five seconds," he sneered. "It was never about Bali."

James was as stubborn as his father. "Well, yeah! Maybe that's it! Maybe that's why you could become 'The Boy Who Lived Twice'!"

"_Because my bloody name's 'Harry'?_ What kind of rubbish are you going on about?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Are they actually having this argument?"

They bickered for a while before things cooled down. From the kitchen, they heard James let out a loud sigh.

"Look, Dad, I'm sorry. I… I love you. I know you mean well, and you and Mum meant well when you named us, and everything, but I just need more time away, okay? Figure myself out. I'll come back some day, I promise."

There was a moment of silence before Harry answered, reluctant but affectionate:

"Okay, Jamie. Just… remember we love you, yeah? And we worry, with you out there."

James chuckled in relief. "Okay."

Ginny, Lily and Albus deduced, from the clothes-muffled sound of collision that followed, that the two men hugged out the argument.

* * *

><p>Lily could see why Luna liked Marina &amp; the Diamonds: her music was weird, quirky, and outrageous at times, but always melodious and well put-together. The naturalist had been right about the lyrics: they really struck a chord in Lily.<p>

'It's okay to say you've got a weak spot. You don't always have to be on top. Better to be hated than loved for what you're not…'

'Not gonna bend over and curtsy for you. Is there any possibility you'll quit gossiping about me to hide your insecurities? All you say is blah, blah… Girls they never befriend me.'

'All I know is I cannot pretend, so I'm sitting on the outside again.'

'One-track mind like a goldfish, stuck inside my petri dish. I can't breathe in, I can't smile. This better be worth my while.'

As Luna had predicted, 'Guilty' was the song that hit closest to home:

'Oh, I'm a guilty one and I know what I have done. I'm a guilty one and I won't be forgiven. I was just a kid…'

The record spun, tears spilled out of Lily's eyes, and her heart healed a little.

**A/N: A short chapter, I know. I had originally planned to put it with 'Fairies', but it would have been much too long.**

**All song lyrics are property of Marina & the Diamonds, a.k.a. Marina Diamandis. Songs quoted are (in order of appearance in the chapter): 'I Am Not a Robot', 'Girls', 'The Outsider', 'Numb', and finally, 'Guilty'. They are all from her first full album, 'The Family Jewels'. And a bit of promotion since I quoted her: Marina's second album, 'Electra Heart', is out in the UK! (And hopefully soon elsewhere.)**


	15. Against the Windowpane

XV. Against the Windowpane

**A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue and the (eventual) sequel.**

Some nights, Lily had the good fortune of falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Some nights, she did not.

Tonight was such a night. It had been a long day. She had boarded the Hogwarts Express in the morning, returning to her parents' home for the summer. She had sat through a small family dinner with her parents, Albus, and Teddy. It had been very pleasant, and she had been excited to see everyone again – especially Teddy, whom she had not seen since last summer. In fact, the night had been _too much fun_, and she judged that was why she now found herself unable to sleep.

Her thoughts drifted to her last months at Hogwarts. She was so glad to have sorted everything out with Sarah; she was an invaluable friend.

"_Sarah? I need to tell you something," was Lily's greeting to Sarah when she found her in a small compartment on the Hogwarts Express in January._

_Sarah looked like she knew exactly what was coming. She sighed. "I know."_

_Lily raised her eyebrows before closing the door, casting a Silencing Charm and sitting down in front of her friend. She pursed her lips and looked down. Drawing a large breath and looking up apologetically, she made her confession quickly: "I'm straight." After which she added hastily, for fear of hurting Sarah's feelings, "And it's not that I don't love you, I do, just not the way you want me to, and I'm so, so, so sorry, really, I'm sorry, I'll be sorry forever, I'm a right –"_

"_Lily!" Sarah interjected. "I know. Actually, I should be the one who's sorry, I know you're still in love with Paul, I just hope you'll still want to be my friend…"_

"_Are you mad? I've been driving myself out of my mind the entire holiday! I was – still am – so scared I've hurt you, so scared you'll never want to see me again…" Lily's voice broke and tears filled her eyes. She chuckled at her own foolishness, which made her tears spill out onto her cheeks._

_Sarah's face, on the contrary, had lit up. Her eyes were wide, her eyebrows up, her gaping mouth in a vacuously happy smile. It was as though she could not believe her luck. "Really? Really, Lily, you don't mind?"_

_Lily's voice was strangled by tears. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Don't mind what?"_

_Sarah was perplexed. Surely she did not need to spell it out for Lily? "That I'm… you know. That I like… girls. Including you."_

_A look of understanding flashed on Lily's face. "Oh, that. Well, no, I don't mind. I just don't want to hurt you, that's all."_

_Sarah flew her arms around Lily and held her in a tight embrace, breathing out, "Let's just forget about this whole thing, shall we?"_

Lily had had to pinch herself on several occasions during the following week: she simply could not believe that Sarah still wanted to be her friend. Of course, once she had gathered back her senses, she had made sure that Sarah was doing fine, that she really was okay. Soon after, they had gone back to their usual simple friendship.

Lily had also realised that her teammates liked her for real, that they really were her friends. It had surprised her as well as filled her with joy. _Friends!_ She had friends! For the first time in her life, she had friends (_plural_)! It had taken her a while to get accustomed to the notion. Once she had, she had stopped feeling lonely. Who would have known that the missing part to Lily's key to happiness was as simple as feeling comfortable in her own skin around others?

When she finally fell asleep in the warm June air, Lily's lips took the shape of a soft smile.

* * *

><p><em>Tap, tap.<em>

Sunshine filled Lily's room.

_Tap, tap._

She blinked. It was dawn. What was going on?

_Tap, tap._

The windowpane! Something was hitting the windowpane!

_Tap, tap._

Lily got up and looked out her window. Her heart felt suddenly warm. There, on the grass, a few rocks in his hand, stood Paul Haver. He was tall (taller, maybe), blonde, and smiling openly. His big blue eyes sparkled when he noticed Lily. She smiled back at him, and quickly evaluated her pyjamas, deeming them appropriate. In this moment, the state of her hair and breath could not have mattered less. She opened her window widely and asked Paul, "Muffle my fall, will you?" before she jumped out.

Upon landing on the fresh, humid grass, a million things flew through Lily's mind, but one impulse was stronger than everything else. She put her hands at the back of Paul's head and let her lips meet his. The kiss was chaste at first: a greeting, an apology. Paul's scent and his taste were different, more mature, yet they were still essentially _him_. And Lily could recognise him anywhere, anytime, anyhow, regardless of how many things about him changed. Slowly, she parted her lips. Their tongues found each other as their lips had, and Lily relished in their tiny caresses.

When Paul's hands wandered towards her breasts, she broke the kiss, took his hand, and ran him to the broom shed.

"We'll be better in here," she whispered with a flirty smile.

They started where they had left off, rediscovering each other's mouth, hair, shoulders… When Paul's fingers slid under Lily's Chudley Cannons t-shirt and softly stroked the skin of her waist, her inner alarm rang. _Not this time_. She would not let her lovesick greediness make her do things she would regret. In one fluid motion, she broke the kiss, grabbed her broom, and flew out of the shed towards the Quidditch field. A feeling of well-being filled her, as it always did when she flew. She felt her hair flapping in the wind. She heard Paul behind her – apparently, he had borrowed an old, noisy broom. Grinning, she let herself drop a few feet, stopped, and rushed to Paul's side. They shared a quick kiss, before Lily flew over him, rolled under her broom like a sloth, and kissed him upside-down. For a while, they teased each other with bouts of kiss spaced apart by fancy flying.

A few minutes later, a very out-of-breath Paul slowly let himself to the ground. Smirking, Lily swooped down quickly towards him, stopping suddenly a mere foot away, letting herself fall to the ground flat on her back. It was a dramatic way of dismounting a broom (if you could call it 'dismounting'), but it had always been her favourite. She laughed at the panicked expression that he had worn.

"I'd forgotten you do that," he panted.

She laughed again in response.

"Merlin! I haven't flown in ages!" He was still panting. It made Lily's laugh uncontrollable.

"Oh, you!" She teased affectionately, while still rolling on the grass, laughing.

He laughed too, except his laugh was breathy, choking, panting.

She calmed down enough to speak, but her words were tinted by the echo of her laughter. "Without Quidditch, Paul? But how did you survive?"

"I didn't really," he answered seriously, and it took her back to the words she had told him almost two years ago, before they had first kissed: _"It's like I was asleep for so long and I'm finally waking up."_

"So," Lily started, serious again. "How was London?"

"Big."

Lily giggled. She could tell he was just pulling her leg. She continued more seriously. "Paul."

"Hm… Well, I'm serious, you know. I grew up in a small village in Scotland. It was big. The sort of place you can easily lose yourself."

Lily rolled her eyes, but paid close attention. "Is this one of those moments when you're being literal and metaphorical at the same time and I'm just supposed to know?"

Paul let out a short chuckle. "Yeah. Um. Let's just… let's just talk about something else, shall we?"

"No."

"How was Hogwarts?"

"Paul." Lily was serious. She wanted him to tell her exactly what Albus had meant when he had said: _"He tries much too hard to forget you."_

"How is Sarah?"

"A chaser," Lily answered. She could play the 'short answer' game too (except she lacked a few skills, and settled on a noun instead of an adjective).

"Lil…"

"Paul."

He sighed. Lily took it as a sign to continue. She rolled on her right side, facing Paul.

"Okay. I can tell you everything. But you'll have to do the same. We're in this together, right?"

At her words, Paul rolled on his left side, so that they were face to face. "Yes."

She sat up, and so did he.

"I managed. I was sad, and I missed you, but I managed, because that's what I do." She paused. He looked neutral. "I was captain, too. You knew that, right?"

Paul nodded. "I heard it through the branches."

"It was nice, but I felt so, so, _so bloody_ lonely. And Sarah was nice about it, you know. She pretended I was good at pretending I was fine, so yeah. But then…" She paused. It was risky… But this was Paul. He had been the first to hear about everything. "Don't tell anyone, all right?"

"I won't. I've kept your uncle's secret. What is it?"

"Yeah. It's kind of similar. Well, she kissed me." She paused to examine Paul's expression: he sucked in a long breath while jealousy and apprehension fought on his face. She rolled her eyes. "Merlin! Paul, I've told you I don't like girls. Anyway, we were sort of… I don't know. A thing, a secret thing, for about a week, before the Christmas holiday." Paul's face was flushed with full-on jealousy. It angered her. "I just – _ah!_ Stop it, will you? I only kissed her back because I was lonely and sad and practically unable to think from madness! Because I loved _you!_" Her temper had risen, and so had his.

"You loved me? Then why, _why_, did you _leave me?_"

"I've told you already Paul, why didn't you listen? I knew you wouldn't listen!"

"I listened. I caught every last word of your delirium. That doesn't mean I ever found the sense in it."

"Then you've never found the sense in _me!_ I took that decision because of who I am."

His voice was low. "You couldn't bear with being the girlfriend, the girl stuck at Hogwarts while her boyfriend is out there, in the 'real world'. It's not you. And yeah, okay, I get that. What I don't get is why you had to – " His voice broke. He let himself fall back on the ground, closing his eyes tightly as he did so. Lily's heart broke a bit. She knew how to finish his sentence: 'What I don't get is why you had to break my heart.'

She whispered, because she was not sure she could keep her voice steady otherwise. "I'm sorry."

She leaned in and put her fingers in his hair, stroking him gently. He rolled on her lap and cried, while she kept repeating the same stroking gestures. They remained that way, silent but for Paul's sobbing, for several minutes.

Eventually, Paul sat up to face Lily. He seemed to have given up on hiding whatever heartbreak he had felt during the past year. He was done crying, but small hints of anguish were still scattered on his features. Lily bit her lip. Oh, the mess she had made.

"I can't remember last summer. Can you believe it? The sunniest summer in ten years, and I can't remember a single thing I did that made me feel happy." His tone was bitter, too bitter, and it made Lily's entire being ache. "I wanted to like London. I wanted to love London. I wanted to love it more than I'd loved you. But it was big and grey and unfriendly. And you're small and red and cheerful. So I thought…" He paused. Lily felt uncomfortable. Part of her wanted to take him into her arms, to tell him to shut up and never think about the past year, ever again. The other part of her wanted nothing more than to know what he was about to say, for she knew it would be the answer to Albus's enigma. "I thought if I shagged other girls, and liked it enough, and had enough fun with it, then I could really forget you."

They remained silent for a minute or two before he felt the need to add: "It didn't work."

There was nothing Lily really wanted to say. Where was life's manual when you needed it? Lily sighed, thinking that if there was an actual 'Life's Manual', she doubted there would be a chapter on 'how to react when the boy you love whom you broke up with a year ago tells you he spent the year repetitively shagging, but just to forget you'. It made Lily feel sickeningly jealous of the girls who got to _see_ all of him, _touch_ all of him, _taste_ all of him, _smell_ all of him, _hear_ all of him (grunts, moans, cries of ecstasy). She also felt guilty to have made him feel so horrible, to have broken his heart so much. She felt slightly repulsed by him, because of all the _places_ his body had been. At the same time, she felt awfully aroused, more than she had in a year, by Paul's sheer mention of 'shagging'. Her feelings were a hot mess. She thought it better not to speak.

"I'm sorry, Lil," Paul murmured. "Play for me? Please?"

Numbly, Lily took her wand from under her shirt and flicked it to Summon her violin. Seconds later, it was lying in its case, beside her. She opened the case, picked up her violin, and tucked it under her chin. Her left hand fingers brushed lightly against the strings, her left palm holding the violin in place. She picked up the bow with her right hand and laid it on the strings. For the second time in Lily's life, _The Swan_ came out of her instrument before she even decided to play it.

It was not like the first time. The first, she had not yet coped with Kate's death. There was bottled up grief inside her. The bottle had broken and the grief had flowed out. No, this time was different. This time, Lily was whole and strong, but she was hesitant. There were still things she did not know.

The first thought to strike her was that she had only played _The Swan_ twice, to Kate and Paul. For some reason she could not single out, the thought seemed oddly symmetrical to her. Kate, Paul.

The second thought to strike her was that the vibration of the air inside the violin's body, close to hers, made her feel unbearably happy and complete. She knew this thought to be the reason she had survived for so long without Quidditch, a few years ago.

The third thought to strike her was that Quidditch and flying were in her blood. They ran through her veins and made her who she is. They made her whole.

The other thoughts came through her brain as an avalanche, filling every corner… life. _Oh, life_. The feel of the grass under her bum. The intricacies of Transfiguration, and discovering them all. The complexity of orchestra music, of symphonies. Magic. Her parents. James. Albus. Charlie. Sarah. Her cousins. Neville, Luna. Her uncles, her aunts. Sunlight. Quidditch. The love she had for it all had made her heart beat even through her darkest hour. It had not been Paul. She loved Paul, but…

Charlie's words came back to her: _"You've got to be able to stand on your own two feet, and love life as it is, before you start a relationship."_ Well, despite being broken and grieving, lost and depressed, Lily had always stood on her own two feet. She had fallen in love with life before she had fallen in love with Paul. She had not realised it before today.

But it was Charlie who had said those words. Charlie, who had loved one man for twenty years (maybe more). Charlie, whose lover had told him bitterly: _"I love you more than my bloody job! And I know you'll never feel the same, but for Merlin's sake just get that piece of information in your brain, will you?"_

Lily's final realisation came to her as she played the last note: she really was Charlie's niece, after all.

And so, while she put her violin back in its case, she sobbed. Paul jumped to his knees, towards her, in concern. He put his hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Lil? What's wrong? Is it Kate?"

He remembered. He knew her so well. He deserved so much better than what she could offer.

She shook her head. "No," she managed to squeak out in between sobs. "It… It's…" She could not finish; her sobbing had become uncontrollable. Paul put his arms around her and she let him cradle her head between his shoulder and his neck. She let him, even though part of her hated herself for it. He was too kind.

After what felt like an eternity, her eyes were dry and her voice had regained a minimal level of steadiness. "I spent last Christmas with my uncle Charlie." Paul nodded encouragingly. "And… and on Christmas night, well, Professor Johnson came, and he was drunk. You remember how I told you that they were together, but not really, and it suited them both just fine? Well… I don't think it really did. I think it suited Charlie perfectly, but not Professor Johnson. So, Professor Johnson's heart is always a little broken, because he'll never have Charlie the way he really wants, and Charlie's just incapable of loving him completely. But they stay together because it's better than nothing, and they do love each other. Do you see what I mean?"

Paul nodded again. She took a deep breath. She could do this. She could. "I realised…" Calm down, she needed to calm down a bit. This needed to make sense. "I realised I'm like Charlie. I'm too in love with the world. One person could never be enough, even you, even though you'll forever be the one who's come closest. I love you. I'm in love with you. I'm head over heels for you. But if someone told me to choose between you and the world… I… I wouldn't pick you. And it's not fair, it's not what you deserve, but look at the sky!" She was suddenly ecstatic; tears of joy threatened the back of her throat. "And the grass, and the trees! Listen to the birds, and the violin, and any music! The feeling when we fly… And Transfiguration, Merlin, the mechanics of it, it makes my head spin with wonder! These billions of utterly amazing things we don't even know about, waiting to be discovered, waiting to be admired, waiting to be loved! I could never love just one person more than all this. And I'm telling you now because you're the one I love most and I never want to hurt you ever again. And…"

"It's too late." Paul's voice was barely audible.

"What?"

He spoke louder. "It's too late, Lil. You…" He sighed. "You've always been like this, haven't you? I just ignored it. Shoved it to the back of my mind. Didn't want to see it. I've always known, but I pretended I didn't. It's too late because I fell in love with you, like a bloody fool. It's hurt me ever since and it'll keep hurting me until I die. But it's okay, Lil."

Lily gaped at him. Her eyes were blurry. "How… how can it be okay? How can 'you' and 'hurting' ever be okay? It's not okay!"

Paul smiled sadly. "It is. It's fine. I promise." He paused, still wearing the same smile. Lily still gaped. "Come back one day, if you want. Once you're out of Hogwarts. It'll be easier then. And I'll share you with the world, I promise."

Before Lily could even close her mouth, he had Apparated. He was gone.

**A/N: A bit of extra analysis:**

**Lily finds the thought that Kate and Paul are the only two who have ever heard her play **_**The Swan**_** 'symmetrical'. It's because Kate and Paul are the only two people to ever have been crowned 'most loved' by Lily (even if Lily doesn't consciously realise it). Before Lily met Kate, she was too young to have a 'most loved' person. When Kate came around, she sort of turned Lily's universe upside-down. To put it differently, Kate was the first person Lily was 'in love' with (except she wasn't **_**literally in love**_** with her). In this light, I think Lily's distress when Kate 'left' her, and Lily's depression when Kate died, make sense. She was young and she did not know how to deal. She didn't even know she had to deal!**

**Paul is the second person Lily is in love with – except this time, she really is in love. I'm not telling whether he will be the last or not, because I'll be exploring that in the sequel. :) **

**I had started this story as a way to deal with things that happened to me and to a friend of mine while I was a child – a way to lay it in writing and to see it more clearly, to see whether it had anything to do with my issues now. I figured it out quite quickly and I let Lily's story evolve in its very own way. In the end, this is Lily's story, not mine.**

**Please review!**


	16. Epilogue

XVI. Epilogue

There are people who are always both happy and sad. They go through life smiling, because life is filled with beautiful wonders, because life deserves every single muscle pull of their smile. But they also go through life with a small, eternal, gray cloud in their head. The cloud never goes away. Sometimes, it gets bigger. Sometimes, it becomes almost unnoticeable. It is a constant presence, at the back of their mind, a melancholy. They learn to live with it. They learn to be happy with it. But it is always there.

Lily figured that she was such a person. She had never been fully sad, even in her darkest hour, and she had never been fully happy. She was fine, though. Actually, she was more than fine. She was alive and in love with life; what more could she ask for?

It would have been greedy of Lily to ask for more than she had had during her final year at Hogwarts. She had friends. She had interesting classes, most of which she excelled at. She was Quidditch Captain. She had her violin. How ungrateful it would have been of her to pine for Paul! Even though part of her wanted to spend days in a state of lovesick longing, she refrained from it. She became the strong, patient, brave young woman she had always had the power to be. And so, she put her memory of Paul in a special box and stored it in her favourite mind corner. The box was kept soundly towed away until Lily would find use for it once more.

Lily had plans for her life after Hogwarts. Big plans, crazy plans, _real_ plans. Plans that were coming true! Ever since she had received her acceptance letter, she had had to regularly perform healing charm on her arm's skin for having pinched herself too many times.

_Dear Ms. Potter,_

_Upon the reception of the recording of your charming of all four movements of Dvo__ř__ák's Ninth Symphony In E Minor, Op. 95, B 178, "From The New World", as well as your recommendation letters, we are pleased to offer you a place at the International Magical Academy of Music and Transfiguration (I.M.A.M.T.) in Vienna, Austria._

_Furthermore, we would like to express the outstanding quality of your musical work by presenting you with an Excellence Scholarship. It is truly an honour for us to make this offer to such a talented and well-rounded student._

_Wishing you all the best,_

_Gregory Warbeck_

_Admissions Coordinator_

_International Magical Academy of Music and Transfiguration_

_Vienna, Austria_

**A/N: There it is! All done! I posted the (short) first chapter of the sequel, **_**A Symphony and a Wizengamot**_**, at the same time as I posted the epilogue.**


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